So sitting around in coffee shops and eavesdropping on expats has finally paid off. And it is evident, that making friends while in Bali is your ticket to experiencing it at its fullest. I was getting a little bored around here to be honest. The hours seemed long when I had no conversation but the ones with myself and sitting on the beach with a case of the glares - staring through the sea and not at it, thinking my minutes away.
Yesterday morning started off the same. This time I actually parked myself on a sun lounger (although not to lounge in the sun but to read in the shade) and watched the water kiss the sand then run away, again and again. After about three hours of this sitting and reading and staring and thinking - I decided that I'd have a cappuccino, that would break the day up a bit.
So I headed off to my now 'local' called Stiff Chilli (insert euphemism for.../innuendo/joke). I people watched for a bit as I sipped my coffee. I then got chatting to a guy named Loïc, at the next table. He's from France and living in Bali, working as a travel agent. His English is good enough to hold a substantial amount of conversation and we laugh at each other's jokes - no translations needed, that's good enough for me.
The chat steered in the direction of music (one of my favourite topics) and turns out he's a guitarist too and told me about an event happening later that night in Denpasar which a lot of his friends were involved in. If I loved live music and didn't know anyone in Bali then I must come along, he told me. He keyed the address into my phone, took his takeaway pizza and beer and headed back to work (nice work if you can get it, eh?).
And I did go. And I'm so glad I did because it was so much fun! It was a sort of hut/bar but essentially an outdoor event. The place was packed with fans of the performers and fellow travelers who had managed to get wind of this party. I met Loïc's friends (half the venue) who were mostly European and also working and living in Bali. All lovely, welcoming people.
There was a jazz/blues band, an acoustic band, a poet reciting her work to folk music, bellydancers, firedancers, rappers, rock bands and an Indonesian acapella performance.
We drank and danced and drank and danced...a hash of ballroom dances and funk moves depending on what went with what. There was a bubble machine and we all tried to catch them on our tongues like giddy children. By my fourth or fifth San Miguel, I was sufficiently tipsy.
Somehow I ended up with cake in my hair, I hadn't even been eating any. But it was pink and smelt like sugar, eggs and flour. Yep. Definitely cake, a nice extra touch to the cocktail of beer and sweat that I also had tangled up in there.
This morning I woke up with sticky hair, a delicate head and a couple of smiles in memory to a bloody good night.
Saturday 29 October 2011
Thursday 27 October 2011
A Wave Creeps In...
I searched all over the internet to find somewhere else to stay. I even went to view a few places. The prices didn't justify the properties and the ones I inquired about via email had all 'just been taken'.
I was sat outside on the porch having breakfast when a fellow guest at the Santuary was on the move to another town. He mentioned he'd been to Sanur and said he loved it there and hadn't wanted to leave. Right by the beach and quieter than the popular Kuta. I did a quick online research and stumbled upon a website that had short notice bookings and special offers.
In a panic that I wouldn't find anything else, I booked a room. So here I am in Sanur on the southeast coast of Bali.
Although beautiful, I am still lost here in Bali. I cannot settle, I cannot self-cater. I'm in a basic room on the third floor, if I want a drink, I have to go and buy it. The view from my window is a building construction. But that's what you get for a low price, right?
When I leave the hotel I get "taxi? taxi, miss? where are you going, miss? nice sarong, you buy, I'm sure you have money, cold drink, miss, cold drink? hello, I follow you?"
I walk by the big resorts, the ones that have no pests. I peer in and watch them lounging by the pool, reading their books, chatting with friends. I find a space to sit on the beach that is free and let my thoughts get caught on the breeze.
How can I complain? you wonder. Look at those pictures, you think. To see something at a distance is extremely different to being there and feeling it...the feeling amplified when you are constantly in your own company.
This trip wasn't always going to be 24/7 bliss, it would have been silly to assume that at all. A bleak blog post, I know.
But at least an honest one.
Still, I have the sand and the sea...and I thank the universe for that.
I was sat outside on the porch having breakfast when a fellow guest at the Santuary was on the move to another town. He mentioned he'd been to Sanur and said he loved it there and hadn't wanted to leave. Right by the beach and quieter than the popular Kuta. I did a quick online research and stumbled upon a website that had short notice bookings and special offers.
In a panic that I wouldn't find anything else, I booked a room. So here I am in Sanur on the southeast coast of Bali.
Although beautiful, I am still lost here in Bali. I cannot settle, I cannot self-cater. I'm in a basic room on the third floor, if I want a drink, I have to go and buy it. The view from my window is a building construction. But that's what you get for a low price, right?
When I leave the hotel I get "taxi? taxi, miss? where are you going, miss? nice sarong, you buy, I'm sure you have money, cold drink, miss, cold drink? hello, I follow you?"
I walk by the big resorts, the ones that have no pests. I peer in and watch them lounging by the pool, reading their books, chatting with friends. I find a space to sit on the beach that is free and let my thoughts get caught on the breeze.
How can I complain? you wonder. Look at those pictures, you think. To see something at a distance is extremely different to being there and feeling it...the feeling amplified when you are constantly in your own company.
This trip wasn't always going to be 24/7 bliss, it would have been silly to assume that at all. A bleak blog post, I know.
But at least an honest one.
Still, I have the sand and the sea...and I thank the universe for that.
Monday 24 October 2011
Daytripper
So I've been trying to get my bearings in my location of Ubud. Every morning I go walking for a bit, venturing out a little further each day. My favourite place to hang out and eat so far isn't a Balinese restaurant at all but a Turkish one! I can't help it, I'm a sucker for Turkish food, absolutely love it. And when I saw that they were doing good coffee and reasonably priced fresh food, I couldn't resist. And it was here that I got talking to a girl from Moscow, called Irina, who's living here for seven months. A rabbit hopped out and stood by our feet! Irina and I couldn't believe that we were seeing a fluffy bunny just hanging out in the restaurant garden...out here on a tropical island...didn't even know they had rabbits in Bali. He wasn't afraid at all and let us stroke him for a little while...
On Sunday, I went to the Monkey Forest Sanctuary. The macaques are hilarious, there are absolute hundreds of them. They are used to having visitors so of course, they aren't shy.
One woman had her hat stolen (although a stupid idea to wear one in the first place) and another man couldn't get one off of his arm. People yelled for a monkey expert/park ranger/guard and one came along with a slingshot. The macaque bolted. There was even one lady in tears, I don't know what had had happened to her, but she seemed to be traumatised from it.
Luckily, I didn't have such an experience as I walked through the forest. Although one did come up to me, his arms outstretched. He was a big'un too, and there was no way I was having him jump on me! The whole time I was there, I was highly amused and kept thinking about how much my sister would have loved it. I could picture her looking at them all and beaming, gushing and squealing. So Cindy, these are for you:
If I was going to see the best of Bali, then I couldn't do it on foot. Now I'm not one for day tours, I usually can't stand them, but Nengah, the driver will take the guests out for the whole day for about twenty quid. So for a one off, I thought it best to take him up on the offer and see the things I wouldn't have been able to get out and see.
We started the day by heading to this majestic rice paddie:
We then entered two temples:
Then we stopped at a coffee and cocoa plantation and sampled some of their delicious vanilla coffee. After a bit of a rest here where the air is cooler, we headed northeast to see the volcano in Kintimani:
We stopped for some lunch at a Warung, a traditional Balinese eatery and then finished off the day by a waterfall:
On Sunday, I went to the Monkey Forest Sanctuary. The macaques are hilarious, there are absolute hundreds of them. They are used to having visitors so of course, they aren't shy.
One woman had her hat stolen (although a stupid idea to wear one in the first place) and another man couldn't get one off of his arm. People yelled for a monkey expert/park ranger/guard and one came along with a slingshot. The macaque bolted. There was even one lady in tears, I don't know what had had happened to her, but she seemed to be traumatised from it.
Luckily, I didn't have such an experience as I walked through the forest. Although one did come up to me, his arms outstretched. He was a big'un too, and there was no way I was having him jump on me! The whole time I was there, I was highly amused and kept thinking about how much my sister would have loved it. I could picture her looking at them all and beaming, gushing and squealing. So Cindy, these are for you:
If I was going to see the best of Bali, then I couldn't do it on foot. Now I'm not one for day tours, I usually can't stand them, but Nengah, the driver will take the guests out for the whole day for about twenty quid. So for a one off, I thought it best to take him up on the offer and see the things I wouldn't have been able to get out and see.
We started the day by heading to this majestic rice paddie:
We then entered two temples:
Then we stopped at a coffee and cocoa plantation and sampled some of their delicious vanilla coffee. After a bit of a rest here where the air is cooler, we headed northeast to see the volcano in Kintimani:
We stopped for some lunch at a Warung, a traditional Balinese eatery and then finished off the day by a waterfall:
Sunday 23 October 2011
Where the Wild Things Are
I'm in Bali, and will be now for the next two months. It was so reminiscent of landing in Mauritius when I arrived on Thursday night - the tiny airport, the stuffy night air and the crowd of drivers waving names at Arrivals.
I got searched in customs. That's never happened to me before and I'm not sure why it happened here, but of course I got grilled about what I was up to and had my hands scanned for traces of drugs. I had my suitcase opened out for all to see, my personals on display. I smiled and answered the officer's questions but I could feel my cheeks growing hot. He looked through my Navajo souvenirs and I had to explain what they were but he didn't understand what a Native American was, none of what I was saying was in his vocabulary. But thank god for Keith, my cheery wooden spoon buddy made the customs officer chuckle when he found him buried under my clothes - it broke the tension. Well done, Keith.
Needless to say, I was clean, so he let me go but being pissed off and sweaty the minute I got to Bali was not a good start. The discomfort was eased away by Nengah, the lovely driver who had come to pick me up from Desa Sanctuary, the place I'm staying at. When I asked him if he minded that I have a cigarette before getting in the car (customs had stressed me right out, of course) he told me that I could have one in the car, saying: "can smoke, open window, relax, be happy."
Nengah is the sweetest man ever and his wife Taman, who is also lovely, works at the Sanctuary too. Nengah and I chatted all the way to Ubud. He kept repeating my name and saying that he liked it very much and that he'd never studied English but has learned what he knows just from driving the guests. Halfway into the drive he said: "your heart...good. I can tell...you have...kind...very good heart." Even though his English was broken, his words still managed to make me emotional. I was so taken aback from his kindness, I just kept saying "thank you".
When I got to my bungalow, I threw my things down, changed into bedclothes and slept quite deeply. I didn't need to set my alarm, the roosters outside made sure to get me up bright and early the next morning. The cock-a-doodle-doos had me waking up in the past, back to being a kid in my Nana's house. That, and the clicking noises that the geckos make. It's never absolutely quiet - as I write this now the crickets are going crazy.
When I say Bali is like Mauritius, it's like my average, everyday experience of Mauritius which aren't the bits you see in a Thomas Cook brochure. Those luxury parts exist here too, of course, but my budget is never going to grant me the pleasure of seeing them. Although I'm lucky enough to be tucked in from the manic unpaved main road. I'm staying in a gorgeous cloister of stunning traditional Balinese lodgings. I'm only booked here for a week so I have to find somewhere else to stay, pronto.
The garden and pool
My bungalow
Everyone here is baffled by the fact that I am not hiring a motorbike and refuse to at that. It's the way that everybody gets around over here and I mean everyone. They don't care if you don't have a license or have never ridden one before. You pay for it, it's yours to ride in an instant. The rules are: if you crash into someone, it is always your fault, always, regardless of whether you're to blame or not. And if you get stopped by a policeman, never look him in the eye and offer him 'cigarette money' (slip him 20,000 rupiahs).
All this considered: no thanks. I'll take my chances by walking. On no pavement. Avoiding ditches. Jumping out the way when motorbikes zoom past...
So there you are, so far Bali for me has been about perilous walks into town and dripping with sweat three minutes into doing so, geckos coming into my kitchen and 'chatting', a butterfly flying around in my bathroom, a bird tapping on my window (flapping against the window, if you prefer) a dragonfly dying in my kitchen, the biggest insects ever known to man flying at my face, ants jumping out from the sugar jar when unscrewing the lid and guard dogs barking at me in the dark.
A good heart? I hope so.
A brave heart? It bloody well has to be.
I got searched in customs. That's never happened to me before and I'm not sure why it happened here, but of course I got grilled about what I was up to and had my hands scanned for traces of drugs. I had my suitcase opened out for all to see, my personals on display. I smiled and answered the officer's questions but I could feel my cheeks growing hot. He looked through my Navajo souvenirs and I had to explain what they were but he didn't understand what a Native American was, none of what I was saying was in his vocabulary. But thank god for Keith, my cheery wooden spoon buddy made the customs officer chuckle when he found him buried under my clothes - it broke the tension. Well done, Keith.
Needless to say, I was clean, so he let me go but being pissed off and sweaty the minute I got to Bali was not a good start. The discomfort was eased away by Nengah, the lovely driver who had come to pick me up from Desa Sanctuary, the place I'm staying at. When I asked him if he minded that I have a cigarette before getting in the car (customs had stressed me right out, of course) he told me that I could have one in the car, saying: "can smoke, open window, relax, be happy."
Nengah is the sweetest man ever and his wife Taman, who is also lovely, works at the Sanctuary too. Nengah and I chatted all the way to Ubud. He kept repeating my name and saying that he liked it very much and that he'd never studied English but has learned what he knows just from driving the guests. Halfway into the drive he said: "your heart...good. I can tell...you have...kind...very good heart." Even though his English was broken, his words still managed to make me emotional. I was so taken aback from his kindness, I just kept saying "thank you".
When I got to my bungalow, I threw my things down, changed into bedclothes and slept quite deeply. I didn't need to set my alarm, the roosters outside made sure to get me up bright and early the next morning. The cock-a-doodle-doos had me waking up in the past, back to being a kid in my Nana's house. That, and the clicking noises that the geckos make. It's never absolutely quiet - as I write this now the crickets are going crazy.
When I say Bali is like Mauritius, it's like my average, everyday experience of Mauritius which aren't the bits you see in a Thomas Cook brochure. Those luxury parts exist here too, of course, but my budget is never going to grant me the pleasure of seeing them. Although I'm lucky enough to be tucked in from the manic unpaved main road. I'm staying in a gorgeous cloister of stunning traditional Balinese lodgings. I'm only booked here for a week so I have to find somewhere else to stay, pronto.
The garden and pool
My bungalowAll this considered: no thanks. I'll take my chances by walking. On no pavement. Avoiding ditches. Jumping out the way when motorbikes zoom past...
So there you are, so far Bali for me has been about perilous walks into town and dripping with sweat three minutes into doing so, geckos coming into my kitchen and 'chatting', a butterfly flying around in my bathroom, a bird tapping on my window (flapping against the window, if you prefer) a dragonfly dying in my kitchen, the biggest insects ever known to man flying at my face, ants jumping out from the sugar jar when unscrewing the lid and guard dogs barking at me in the dark.
A good heart? I hope so.
A brave heart? It bloody well has to be.
Saturday 22 October 2011
Dalí Before Bali
After my time at the Singapore Botanical Gardens, I made my way on the MRT (their version of the tube) to Bas Basah to go to the Singapore Art Museum. The rain was pouring heavily when I got out of the station so I decided to wait under an awning until it subsided. I waited...and waited...and waited. I waited until boredom and hunger kicked in so I found a canteen style place that served all dfferent styles of Asian food like pig trotter soup and fish dumplings...I was a wuss and ordered fried rice. I know I should be more adventurous with my food but, I'm sorry, I just don't think I could stomach those other dishes!
The Art Museum was a waste of time and money really. I paid 10 Singapore dollars to see three rooms of portraiture. They only had one exhibit on and the artist didn't impress me one bit. Had I known it was so empty and only portraits before I got my ticket, I would have turned away and found something else to do. But it all helps to shape my taste, I guess, discovering what I like and what I don't.
I hadn't been out in the evening yet since I got to Singapore so I decided to at least go and buy a drink somewhere, and that somewhere was not far at all. Back at the good old trusty Clarke Quay Center by the river, I walked along and took in the atmosphere of the place. I'd only seen it in the morning when having my usual bakery bought breakfast but at night it took on a different persona. It was lively, music blaring out from each bar, people drinking and sitting in groups by the river, kids running through the street fountains and tourists gathering round to watch street performers.
I found a rock themed pub that had a biker-style bar and was playing my favourite Ted Nugent song - perfect - this was me.
But 15 dollars for a rum? I don't think so. I coyly asked for a lemonade and sat for a while, watching people pass by on brightly lit tour boats.
The next morning I packed up my suitcase, cleared my bunk, emptied my locker and checked out of River City Inn. My flight to Bali wasn't until 7pm so I left my things at the hostel and decided what I'd do over coffee. I wanted to attempt the ArtScience Museum one more time, hoping that it wouldn't be closed again for another private event.
But hoorah! It was open...
Lotus shaped building...Keith and I think that's pretty cool.
I was the first person through the door when they opened at 10am and I wasn't sure what I was in for. I was hoping there'd be no more crap paintings. To my delight, they were displaying the biggest collection of art by Salvador Dalí, one of my favourite artists! I spotted his famous 'melted clock' by the entrance and I did a mini dance.
Unfortunately, my camera battery died just as I got ready to snap some of the most stunning Surrealist work in the most interesting exhibition I'd ever seen. This is the only photo I can show you, the rest of them are stuck inside my phone. But here's a picture of Dalí and one of his paintings that I nicked from Google images:
I didn't mind what I did after that, I was reeling from Dalí 's art; it had made my day. I took my time to get back to the hostel. I had a coffee here, had some lunch there and by the time I was done it was time to leave for the airport.
The Art Museum was a waste of time and money really. I paid 10 Singapore dollars to see three rooms of portraiture. They only had one exhibit on and the artist didn't impress me one bit. Had I known it was so empty and only portraits before I got my ticket, I would have turned away and found something else to do. But it all helps to shape my taste, I guess, discovering what I like and what I don't.
I hadn't been out in the evening yet since I got to Singapore so I decided to at least go and buy a drink somewhere, and that somewhere was not far at all. Back at the good old trusty Clarke Quay Center by the river, I walked along and took in the atmosphere of the place. I'd only seen it in the morning when having my usual bakery bought breakfast but at night it took on a different persona. It was lively, music blaring out from each bar, people drinking and sitting in groups by the river, kids running through the street fountains and tourists gathering round to watch street performers.
I found a rock themed pub that had a biker-style bar and was playing my favourite Ted Nugent song - perfect - this was me.
But 15 dollars for a rum? I don't think so. I coyly asked for a lemonade and sat for a while, watching people pass by on brightly lit tour boats.
The next morning I packed up my suitcase, cleared my bunk, emptied my locker and checked out of River City Inn. My flight to Bali wasn't until 7pm so I left my things at the hostel and decided what I'd do over coffee. I wanted to attempt the ArtScience Museum one more time, hoping that it wouldn't be closed again for another private event.
But hoorah! It was open...
Lotus shaped building...Keith and I think that's pretty cool.
I was the first person through the door when they opened at 10am and I wasn't sure what I was in for. I was hoping there'd be no more crap paintings. To my delight, they were displaying the biggest collection of art by Salvador Dalí, one of my favourite artists! I spotted his famous 'melted clock' by the entrance and I did a mini dance.
Unfortunately, my camera battery died just as I got ready to snap some of the most stunning Surrealist work in the most interesting exhibition I'd ever seen. This is the only photo I can show you, the rest of them are stuck inside my phone. But here's a picture of Dalí and one of his paintings that I nicked from Google images:
I didn't mind what I did after that, I was reeling from Dalí 's art; it had made my day. I took my time to get back to the hostel. I had a coffee here, had some lunch there and by the time I was done it was time to leave for the airport.
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