Balirilliant!

The best time to find out there is no bus to the international airport is when you’re on what you think is a bus to the international airport. Luckily this dilemma was solved by two kindly ozzy chaps who gave me a list from the centre out to where i needed to be with just 30 minutes to spare before my gate closed on the flight to Bali. No other hitches and i was in Indonesia just in time for the daily horrendous torrential downpour in the ‘leaves something to be desired’ city of Kuta. This had the twin effect of a) drenching everything I owned in about 5 seconds, and b) forcing me to befriend two young similarly drenched French chaps who were also looking for accommodation in the hopes of finding somewhere cheaper to stay if the cost was split between three. There was success on this front and along with Clement and Trevor we were in a previously- fancy hotel with swimming pool for the evening. The accommodation was well up to scratch for mangy backpacking types, though the food on offer in Kuta (traditional Indonesian fare with a ‘what the tourists want’ twist was not to my liking. I decided to head out of Kuta as soon as possible, and so after a very enjoyable swim in the hotel pool I was off on a shuttle bus bound for the central town of Ubud. I was actually surprised the public transport in Indonesia, especially a tourist hotspot like Bali, wasn’t better... I actually believe the South Am transport system is much better sorted in most places. Bali seems to suffer from some kind of Taxi- raqueteering prohibiting the public transport system from running efficiently or effectively. Actually I was disappointed that the Balinese attitude, especially around Kuta and Nusa Dua was largely centred on money grabbing as opposed to investing in the island ‘s wellbeing or original cultures.

Anyway, I was off to Ubud, where in an ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ twist I managed to procure myself lodgings in an ashram run by a Balinese medicine man; Delighted with 3 days of early meditation sessions, hiking and a minimalist diet of noodles and banana toasties (that well known Indonesian dish). Luckily I still had my days free to explore the loca

le and see the country so i was off that afternoon to Ubuds famous Sacred Monkey forest, which is a wood that is full to bursting with monkeys and ancient Indonesian temples. Think Indiana Jones. The monkeys made for an entertaining day as long as you stayed out of their way chasing each other (and me at one point!) through the forest, and making off with all the sunglasses the tourists didn’t remove (as instructed) at the gate. the next day I decided my best option was to hire a driver to see the island (you can get across most of it by car in one day... my plan exactly) first stop was to the Elephant safari park, where i had a phenomenal time riding an elephant through the Indonesian jungle. My elephant was called Roxy, and after going for a ride I was allowed to feed both her and the parks baby elephants. Next stop was the oldest temple on the Island, and admiring the views of the massive dormant volcano that dominates the place. It was slightly cloudy which was a shame, but I did know it was rainy season when I booked. My final stop was a tour of the Balinese countryside where I admired the rice fields and got guilted by local children into buying postcards. It was a truly brilliant day, and so the next day I decided to take a more relaxed meander and opted for a day of meditation (learning about the Balinese traditions of making offerings to the Hindu Gods, and the benefits of silent reflection- numb bum was the first one i found!!). I also managed an enjoyable hike into the Balinese countryside, the only upsetting side- effect of which was several nasty tick bites on my legs. My final day was spent watching Balinese dance (loud, confusing, amazing) and looking around the Ubud market (loud, confusing, amazing) and the Palace in Ubud (loud, beautiful, amazing). The next day i was away to Sanur because i found out that I could attend surf school in Kuta (a place I had no desire to return to) but be picked up and returned to Sanur. The journey to the new town was very enjoyable as I spent the hour journey travelling with two International teachers who were telling me all about their travels and a recent trip to Vietnam (SO want to go there!). Sanur is called ‘Snore’ by the tourists as its famous for having no nightlife and being very quiet. For someone coming out of a very secluded three days in an Ashram with only a Balinese medicine man and his family for company (not that they weren’t very friendly, just not very chatty, apart from laughing at my love of banana toasties- seriously... i urge you to try them! Oh and my other favourite new Indonesian dish Nasi Goering which is fried rice with a fried egg on top, YUM.). I liked Sanur a lot, I was keen to organise my surf lesson and so I set it up for the next day and then spent the remainder of the time swimming in the sea and enjoying the opportunity to run along the beach frint (completely impossible in the tiny town of Ubud which is crammed with kamakazi motorcyclists). I also met two lovely American girls Paige and Josie who were flying out to Kuala Lumpur the next day, we decided to have dinner that night where we traded stories about my brief spell in hospital in Cuzco with Paige who had had an operation in Kuta (erg... nuff said) to drain an absess on the back of her neck. The girls were keen to show my the video of the operation (they had allowed an unscrubbed Josie into the room to film it!) but luckily their laptop battery had died so I wasn’t forced to repress that memory.

The next day i was away to enjoy my first ever surfing lesson. I was delighted to be quite good on a board, managing to stand up on my second attempt. My luck ran out when I got so excited i surfed my board into the beach and did a spectacular knee skinning front flip. But needless to say the very next chance i get I’ll be off on a board again! That evening was spent enjoying the company of the Balinese family who ran the home stay I was living in- i was muchly entertained by the mother who had managed to pick up the English expression ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’ and used it for everything. My final day saw a last trip to the beach (not really comparable to the beautiful ozzy beaches, but the sea there is lovely to swim in) and then hanging out with an Englsih couple who had just flown in and an Ozzy policeman who tried to convince me to join the force here!

My journey to the airport was made more enjoyable by the company of a 65 year old Canadian backpacker who told me stories of trying to get around the world by train... he’s doing quite well so far! And then it was just a case of waiting for my flight back to sunny Freo!