Ubud to Amed
Our hotel in the “Ubud area” is called “Payangan Hideaway”. They were not kidding – the place was tucked deep in the hills, up and down twisty country lanes, pass myriad rice fields and banana groves. When we got there it was almost dark and we were seriously wondering if we’d ever find the place.
The view was enchanting. Perched on a hill, the “Hideaway” looks out onto a valley layered with banana groves and rice paddies, palm trees and tropic flowers, with high mountains in the background. It’s such a serene and gorgeous scene – I began to understand why people like to use the word “spiritual” a lot when describing this area, and often get inspired to do Yoga. Even though I still don’t quite understand the meaning of the word, it sounds appropriate. There’s a sense of timelessness and peace. Steps lead down the steep hill to a little temple by the stream. It was indeed a lovely retreat, and I’m sure there are many, many places just like it tucked in the hills of central Bali. Despite the sprawling commercial development along main roads, I have not seen one mega building or giant boxy resort on the island (I can’t speak about the most touristy areas such as Kuta, which we did not go to). The Balinese people’s good aesthetic taste at least prevailed on this account. Most of the hotels and villas were built with elements of the traditional style, which blends well with the scenery. And the code is that no building should be taller than a coconut palm tree.
After a relaxing morning at the hideaway we took the shuttle to Ubud town. I was again disconcerted by the contrast between order and chaos: on one hand the pretty houses with all the ornamental details, the neat rice paddies (yes, they are there even in the town, between houses); on the other the traffic, uneven sidewalk, and garbage covering the drains just below the main street. We were still recovering from our various ailments and just barely made it down the road from the market (bargaining was too much work for us), to visit the famous Sacred Monkey Forest. Never saw so many monkeys in my life – these creatures (the Long Tailed Macaques, a relative of those Barbary Macaques we met in Gibraltar, which have no tails) were everywhere, climbing the trees, running around, grooming each other, eating bananas, or just sitting there, tourist watching I guess. The monkeys are fed by the park staff, so contrary to what we heard, they’re reasonably well behaved. I didn’t see any monkey harass tourists (about as numerous as the monkeys). Some tourists would feed them (we saw a girl hand-feeding a monkey who climbed onto her shoulder), or give them bottled water, which they know how to operate. They know how to use tools too: we saw one monkey using rocks to open nuts. Quite smart, these little monkeys!
It would have been nice to stay longer to explore the countryside and the town but alas, our schedule beckoned. On to our next destination: Amed. The sensory overload of a Bali roadtrip continued. We took a detour to Kintamani, with its expansive view of two volcanos (Mount Batur and Mount Agung, both active), a crater lake (Lake Batur), and a mob of street venders peddling their fruits. Afterwards we traversed across the scenic countryside to the east coast, passing villages with people going about their daily lives: a flotilla of school children in uniform getting off their classes, going home on scooters; people getting funeral towers ready for cremation – multi-tiered structures resembling a pagoda, decked with elaborate ornaments; a funeral ceremony in process in a clearing by the roadside, a big, public event; a crowd of young people in brightly colored dress with baskets of flowers in their hands gathering by a village – must be a wedding, said our driver… On the dry side of the volcanos, the land looked distinctly arid compare to the lush rice fields the other side, we saw people bathing in streams/irrigation canals right by the road.
We had lunch in Candidasa, a lovely laid-back-looking town by the sea, but with its own cautionary tale on over zealous tourist development:
In the 1970s and 1980s, the area received a large amount of investment in tourism and a construction boom. To fuel the construction of beach bungalows, new homes and restaurants, the offshore reef was mined for lime to make cement and other construction materials. This removed the coastal barrier that had protected the beach which was undermined and washed away.
I hope developers have learned their lesson elsewhere on the island. Amed is a stretch of coast including several villages, and supposed to have been a backwater until recent years. Tourist accommodation now line the coast, though still in a relaxed and laid-back manner. Hopefully it will remain that way, with just one small adjustment: some sidewalk would be really helpful, as it felt a little life-threatening to walk on the road after dark, and the beaches are too pebbly for a walk. Snorkeling was delightful and the dive at Tulumben was a real treat: a wreck from World War II, plenty of colorful coral, and a school of jackfish twirling around you, how cool was that?
8 days was too short for an island like Bali, with so much to see and do. Will we be back? I’d like to think so. There are so many fascinating places in the world waiting out there, some entirely new to me, some I have probably never heard of, and with any luck I know I can see a fraction of them. But Bali is definitely a unique place.