Flew out of Heathrow at 21:30 on Monday. Arrived at our final destination, a little Balinese hippy town called Ubud, mid-afternoon on Wednesday. Knackered.
The first thing you realise is that Bali's road network is apparently lawless, a borderline chaos. I think they drive on the left here...
Our taxi driver had even stated 'I drives by my own rules'. How exciting.
For the first four days we rented a double room with an en-suite and access to a pool for £6.80 a night. SE Asia really is the region that makes long term backpacking on a shoestring possible. Although, en-suite on our budget does not mean sweet suite. It means all in one, as in you can shower whilst sitting on the loo which I actually love, so the joke's on them.
In Ubud we visited the Monkey Forest, a place where a guaranteed food supply keeps some 700 monkeys in a relatively small section of forest for all us tourists to come and stare at. And stare we did, they are amazing to watch, so me like.
Small and hairy.
I saw some monkeys jumping up on tourists (Grace included) to either groom their head hair or try and steal whatever was in their hands. Most victims screamed, panic laughed and generally gave the impression it was an unpleasant experience. However, and I'm embarrassed to say, I actually went out of my way to try and be set upon. I targeted and pursued the naughty juveniles, however to no avail. Playing hard to get has never been my forte.
We went on a bike tour which actually meant a long drive up to a cafe in the highlands with a stunning view of Mount B... ok to be honest I can't remember the name. It's the less recently frisky of Bali's volcanoes aAfterwItdse then cycled down hill for threw hours with a few stops. One of which was a coffee plantation where we sampled the goods, including Cat poo coffee - the same overpriced stuff currently being consumed by London's elite / idiots. They take a cat like mammal species (again, cant remember the name) which can't digest coffee beans so poos them out. They are then collected, cleaned and roasted in the normal way.
Spoiler Alert: It tastes like regular coffee, just shitter.
My first ever go on a moped was not in ideal conditions. A rainstorm of biblical magnitude had forced our friend Robyn to abort her ride due to fear of falling off. Fair enough in Bali where the road is awash with super confident native riders screaming past you. Add to that the fact that on this particular day the road was also literally awash.
Bali is a world away from the UK. As an aspiring moped rider / renter living in the latter, you would need to hold the necessary driving license. In Bali, all you need is access to 50,000RP (about £2.80), no questions asked.
Reluctantly I handed the extortionate fee to our hostel owner who pointed at a pile of helmets in the corner and motioned towards a row of five vehicles parked outside. One of his staff was busy doing pre-flight checks on the fleet, which was reassuring, however, the small Hindu offering balanced on our ped's seat... not so much. Did tourists require divine assistance? Hmm.
Unlike the rest of Indonesia Bali is 95% Hindu. Everyday each household and business places a number of small offerings (tiny dried banana leaf baskets containing rice morsels, petals, even cigarettes) outside each room and the front door. And yes on one occasion I did accidentally boot one into the road. Very embarrassing but completely unavoidable here.
Brimming with confidence, with Grace on the back, I took to pedding like a duck to watery Ubud. My years cycling central London's rush hour stood me in good stead. Although, having said that, I had never given Grace a backy to work back home.
NB: my folks will be glad to hear that having my love ride shotgun meant I drove very cautiously indeed.
We eventually broke out of the urban gridlock and hit the open road. Rice paddies, villages, temples, banana trees flying by. 60mph on two wheels is pretty exciting I have to say (Mum&Dad see NB above).
Thought of the day:
The Balinese use of Bamboo as scaffolding pleases me. Natures perfect alternative.
We visited the Yoga Barn in Ubud, which is apparently the largest yoga studio in SE Asia. The town put on the map, in part, by the book/film Eat Pray Love. The vegan buffet was the most colourful bowl of food I had ever demolished.
Afterwards we did the Intro to Yoga session which was good, bit painful. A Chinese girl in short shorts frequently thrusting her bum quite sexually directly into Grace's face made me laugh. Our teacher talked a lot about energy, love, the sun, the moon, etc so obviously I fell in love with her immediately; an embarrassing inevitability.
Afterwards we did the Intro to Yoga session which was good, bit painful. A Chinese girl in short shorts frequently thrusting her bum quite sexually directly into Grace's face made me laugh. Our teacher talked a lot about energy, love, the sun, the moon, etc so obviously I fell in love with her immediately; an embarrassing inevitability.
Days later I reckon Grace fell in love with a talented guitar guy who sang us a set of classics at a bar, so we're even. I certainly fell in love with him so I bloody hope she did.
Walking back through Ubud after a night on the tiles we came across an impassable mob in the street. Turns out the local temple was putting on a show in the street. I say show it was a Hindu Festival - not sure which - but it was performed by hundreds of children.
For 45mins we watched the most intricate choreography, amazing costumes and singing / chanting / vocal percussion. The latter was particularly impressive. I counted some unusual time signatures and was spellbound by the coordination, the spot on timing and musicianship of such a large number of kids. I tried to explain my astonishment to a fellow British couple, however as soon as Grace chipped in with 'Olly plays the drums you see' I felt like a twit and summed up.
For 45mins we watched the most intricate choreography, amazing costumes and singing / chanting / vocal percussion. The latter was particularly impressive. I counted some unusual time signatures and was spellbound by the coordination, the spot on timing and musicianship of such a large number of kids. I tried to explain my astonishment to a fellow British couple, however as soon as Grace chipped in with 'Olly plays the drums you see' I felt like a twit and summed up.
Critter Watch:
Tonight on Critter Watch - Olly, Grace, Robyn and Dave witness a small snake chasing flies in a rice paddy.
Less on that later.
We left Ubud and got the 90min boat to Gili Trawangan, one of three tiny (Gili) islands just off Lombok. This island paradise is all about snorkeling and SCUBA so we gave both a go.
As is tradition, of course I got enormously sunburnt on Day 1. This is the closest to the equator my skin has ever journeyed so it was a real doozy.
NB: P-20 Once A Day spray does nooo do what is says on the tin.
SCUBA was both amazing and a touch scary. You really get a sense that you're taking your life in your hands. If you panic at that depth and forget your training, you could die. My experience slightly marred by a leaky mask but aside from that it was incredawemazesome.
Turns out we were very fortunate indeed. Aside from three turtles which I thought would be the highlight, an enormous beast paid Grace, our Norwegian instructor and me a visit. Kris had just made the hand sign indicating he wanted us to communicate our air supply to him, however when I looked back up to sign 50bar (the quantity you should terminate your dive at) he was already swimming away, eyes wide, motioning for us to follow, no species specific hand sign given...
During our training he had shown us a book of fish and mammal we might see, and the signal for each. He didn't even bother demonstrating what hand gesture meant Manta Ray.
So that was quite a thrill. Apparently they can grow up to 7m (wing span). Kris estimated ours to be a mere 3-4m, so as far as I was concerned, absolutely enormous then. Incredibly, it was only the second time he had witnessed one in the wild and ridiculously coincidentally we were diving with Manta Dive School at a dive site called Manta Point. You couldn't write this stuff.
Although I have, see above.
I'm a big fan of the Gili islands. The natives are so hospitable, always smiling, always saying 'lovely jubbly' or 'core blimey' when they learn that you're from England i.e the East End of London. Also, those that know me well can imagine I get pretty excited by the local Indonesian menus. Not the food derrr, the prices. Traditional main course in a backstreet Warung = £1!
'Err, in which case I'll take two then'
(one for me and one for Grace).
NB: I do actually love the food.
One point for improvement. They fling a fried egg on top of every meal they cook. Not a big problem, I can easily fling it off again. However, if there's a chronic egg surplus in Indonesia, which there clearly is, just cull the chicken population and fling one of them on my plate instead. Jeez.
The islands are unique. No motorised vehicles are allowed so it's all bicycles or horse and cart. No dogs allowed, only cats (millions of them). There are also no police. Magic mushrooms are advertised in plain site and the Gilis have become quite famous in this regard.
Thought of the day:
Our hostel cat recently had kittens and we're obsessed with them. I've named them One to Five.
We walked to the sunset strip of beach bars and obviously saw the most incredible sun set over Bali's distant mountains. There was a small wisp of gas emanating from Mt Agung's crater, the more recently frisky of Bali's volcanoes and an archetypal Stratovolcano (#geologygrad08). I would be lying if I said there wasn't a part of me that secretly wished it erupted at that moment, right in front of our eyes. Of course that would mean inevitable death and destruction. Like I said, a part.
We paid for a snorkel trip on a glass bottomed boat with 20+ other tourists. Three different dive sites and lunch. The first and third were amazing, as there was a plethora of beautiful tropical fish at each, think Finding Nemo. So incredibly close as well, they were literally eating (bread) out of my hand.
However, again my mask was letting in water. Turns out designer stubble hinders a true seal. Dam my sexy face.
At the second site, Grace and I were last off the boat due to a classic faff-fest. This proved fortuitous. Our skiff had drifted off the coral shelf and onto deeper darker water. We jumped off and were instantly treated to our own private Turtle peep show, gracefully pulling itself through the water. Perfectly framed and contrasted against the homogenous blue backdrop. Magnificent.
Thought of the day:
Within the first two weeks of our trip:
- We both left our £35 a piece super filter water bottles in a bar, only to recover them hours later.
- Grace also left hers in a chemist, again recovered).
- I lost our hostel room key and had to pay for a replacement only to be handed the original later, by the cleaner.
- At the next hostel I left our room key in our door for a whole day.
- Grace's card was gobbled up by a ravenous ATM. Yum.
So yes this all bodes well. I was hoping on only loosing my dignity whilst away but it may not be that easy a ride.
After four days on Gili T, we jumped ship. Jumped on a ship and headed for Gili Air, T's little sibling. Indonesian boats are very narrow, overcrowded and the sea was very choppy that day. It was one of the scarier rides of my life. There was a lot of screaming and a lot of water crashing over the bows and into the packed cabin. I was reminded of a nautical phrase 'the sea is a cruel mistress'.
NB: Grace is a cool mistress.
The driver even cut the engine at one point to avoid capsizing. The couple next to me donned life jackets, a bit alarmist in my opinion. It also served to draw everyone's attention to a titanic-esque scenario, there definitely weren't enough life jackets onboard.
I began singing Celine Dion's most tragic anthem (in my head).
On Gili Air we really got into beach hol mode. More snorkeling (turtles almost becoming run of the mill now - ridiculous), eating out three times a day (good food is so cheap!!!), hours of reading under the parasol... etc. So this is "traveling" is it? Good. Sign me up for several more months.
Critter Watch:
Tonight on critter watch - Olly treads in red ant colony and gets bit up, Grace and Olly warm to a Gecko living in their cupboard. About the length of a Shatterproof ruler which is big for a Gecko but they are actually quite cute.
Headline - Olly sees a massive spider and s***s himself. On Booking.com Gecko Backpackers' outdoor thatched bedroom on stilts looked wild, in a good way. In reality it was wild, in a bad way. A three night fearfest. On the first evening we returned to find this monster spider on our bedroom wall. Poor thing only had five legs, likely a veteran of conflicts past with previous guests. Like any proud war veteran, i imagine it craved an honorable and respectable death so with that in mind I readied one of my more sturdy flip flops.
Seriously though I do feel bad about that one, I like animals, however I'm also a borderline arachnophobe. There's no way I could have got into bed with that monster sharing our room. It had claws coming out of its face for goodness sake! It made one of our big brown British house spiders look like a gorgeous angelic little infant mite. It didn't work anyway, that night Karma took the form of substantial sleep deprivation.
Booking.com is brilliant. Reverse Karma took the form of a posh little bungalow room, 60% off for two nights! It had air con, a real treat. Up till then it had been all fan-tastic (i.e not fantastic). And most crucially, this upgrade was relatively spider-proof, it was indoors.
At this very moment* we are on the fast boat back to Bali. The cruel mistress is up to her usual tricks again...
and the sea is again very choppy.
*update: I thought I was going to post this last Thursday. Its now days later and said boat trip is a distant memory.
*update: I thought I was going to post this last Thursday. Its now days later and said boat trip is a distant memory.
So we are on our merry way to Kuta, which by all accounts is the Magaluf of Bali. SOS...
As we want to stay relatively close to the airport for Wednesday's 6am flight to Cambodia, we have decided to endure Indonesia's answer to Falaraki, Zante, etc. It's all 'Aussies on tour' apparently. Yikes. I've already irritated Grace to the point of mention by repeatedly shouting (in a deadly accurate Aussie accent) 'Kuta mate, we're goin fackin Kuta mate'.
In summary, Indonesia is wicked. The plan was to (indon)ease ourselves into the trip with lots of beach time and that's what we've done. We had heard that it is one of the (indon)easier countries to backpack in and I agree. Certainly easier than (In)(Lon)(don)(esia).
Well this has been a lot longer winded than I anticipated. I planned to simply list some key bullet points and it's turned into a ruddy geography essay of (gonna blow my own trumpet here) GCSE quality. So apologies and thanks for sticking with it.
If you bailed early then I don't blame you but consider our friendship terminated. You won't read this anyway. Ha.
Actually can someone please pass on the termination comment to any premature bailers. Thank you and good day.
I was about to say I miss you all but to be honest I don't. Not yet. Still feels like a holiday. Tune in for Part II if you want to be missed.
xxx
P.s please give it up for Julie Brown. It's her birthday tomorrow. Top gal. She's made me what I am today, quite literally.
