Kuta is like Cancún for Australians, the foreign-yet-strangely-familiar city to get wasted abroad. It’s like Khao San Road in Bangkok, the place where Westerners come for liquor, prostitution, cheap gifts or a combination of the three. Neither I nor my travel partner, Jake felt the desire to linger in Kuta, so we decided to take action. We decided, in fact, to rent a car.
Our big black Avanaza was great, but the rest of the Bali driving experience unfortunately was not. Thankfully, Jake knew stick shift, so he shouldered the stress of the small, winding roads while I attempted to navigate us on an island with almost no street signs. We encountered a few tight squeezes and reckless motorbike drivers, and were pulled over by a cop holding a machine gun (this was resolved with 40,000 rupiah bribe), but managed to find our way to some neat nooks.
Bali’s shabby roads aside, it was one of the most incredible places I’ve ever seen. We began our voyage on the south of the island, where we passed through some legendary surf spots. We slept in Padang Padang, peered through the gorgeous cavernous entrance to the Uluwatu surf break (see photo below) and had a Bintang beer on Dreamland beach, which was once known as a hidden paradise but had become overrun with tourists.
We made our way up the East coast to Padang Bai, where we ate a little hippie restaurant called the Ozone Café. In the morning we headed to a rural town called Sidemen, whose layered rice fields that were almost unreal in their lush beauty. We’d only planned to pass through Sidemen on the way to our next destination, but when we stopped to look at a waterfall a boy name Azis introduced himself to us (he's on the bottom right).
I could spend an entire entry describing our stay with Azis’ family, but suffice to say it was one of the most meaningful homestay situations I’ve ever had. We spent the morning playing beneath the waterfall with Azis and his cousins, then he took us on a hike up a mountain to see where his relatives live. His cousin made birdcages by hand, and his brother climbed a tree and used his machete to slice down some coconuts for us. Azis paraded us through his small Muslim village (where ecstatic children trailed behind us) and brought us to his home to share dinner with his father, sister and little cousins. None of his family members spoke English, and Azis only knew a little, but we looked at photos and looked up words in Indonesian like “enak” (delicious) to communicate. We were awakened at 5:00am the next morning by Muslim incantations being blasted from a loudspeaker (a sound ever Indonesian traveler becomes familiar with rather quickly).
Our next destination was Ubud, the cultural center of Bali which is now rather famous thanks to its feature in “Eat Pray Love.” In the center of the city was the Sacred Monkey Temple, which had a few interesting aspects but was crawling with my two least favorite creatures in Southeast Asia: monkeys and tourists. Once we rented bicycles and ventured away from Monkey Forest road, however, we found some beautiful galleries with carvings and paintings. Something that always bothered me about Thailand was the similarity in style and technique in most Thai art; tradition has its place, but I believe artists should always push the boundaries of their craft. Balinese style definitely had a sense of unity, but there was much more creative interpretation and deviation from a singular style. My favorite restaurant in Ubud was Juice Ja Café, which served delicious, high-quality, healthy cuisine, but there were many more to list; Ubud proved to be a great foodie destination.
We moved through the center of the island next, and passed through the famous Pura Danau Bratan, a temple on the lake (above). We settled in Munduk, among the misty mountains, and enjoyed the cool before heading back down to the West coast towards a small town called Medewi. In Medewi we finally surfed a bit, and the locals who rented my board helped me catch a few waves (they also found great joy laughing at my wipe-outs).
There are plenty of small side-trips I am glossing over or leaving out completely, partially because I don’t recall where they were. We stopped at countless moss-covered temples, a couple of nearly empty black sand beaches, and some small towns with their own specialty. Balinese people reminded me a lot of Thai people; They were helpful and generous, and had these great big smiles.
We rolled into Kuta a week after we’d departed, ready for nothing but a relaxing evening, only to discover we had a flat tire. It was also, of course, pouring outside. So we found a hotel, put down all of our things and stepped out into the blindingly heavy rain to change the tire. We fell asleep early that evening, ready for less stressful stay at our next destination: Nusa Lembongan island. Nusa Lembongan, you see, doesn't have cars.
wonderful!! and lovely pictures!! thankyou!
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