I think it is Buddhists, or perhaps another of that ilk, who believe that all creatures have a legitimate place in this world and, in theory, I would support this view. However in practice, my support for this philosophy rapidly collapses, particularly when the creatures in question are rats and the place in question is my bed! The spotlessly white sheet on the large (and very comfortable) bed made it easy to spot the evidence – the small, black torpedoes were an unmistakeable sign of rat visitations. With vivid memories of trying to sleep in a rat infested rice barge in India a couple of years ago we expected the worst, however Balinese rats are much more respectful and we had a peaceful couple of nights. It was not until our final morning that we caught sight of ratus ratus bounding up the stairs like an Olympic athlete on steroids. Luckily I had my camera with me and managed a couple of blurred photographs.
Ubud is a strange place – the streets are bustling with hundreds of
cars and motorbikes whilst tourists mix with locals in a mad frenzy of noise, colour and smells – however, down a dark alley a mere 50 yards from the mayhem of the street, it was another world. Artini bungalow was practically in the middle of the town yet the view from where I am typing this is of coconut palms, banana trees and rice paddies. The noise of motorbikes has been replaced by birds, particularly ducks which inhabit the rice fields (probably being fattened to become crispy ducks) and which make such a racket at dawn you never need an alarm clock. Mind you the frog chorus at night gives the ducks a good run for their money.
We hired a driver for the day to take us on a t
our of north central Bali with specific instructions not to be taken to shops, factories or markets but to see the countryside and be able to get out and walk. One of our first impressions was of flags – not the usual gaudy oriental jobs but real flags – World Cup fever has hit Bali. Lining the main street in almost every village were flags of the competing countries with each family flying the flag of the country they support. We spent last night in a restaurant listening to football mad local cheering on Portugal against North Korea. It would be interesting to see what would happen should Indonesia ever make it to the finals.
We were fortunate to arrive in Bali at the start of the Cremation Season and we were able to witness several of the very colourful and noisy cremation ceremonies. Our driver Wayan was able to bring us up to speed on a
spects of Hindu belief revolving round life, death, body and soul and the importance of cremation, including the interesting fact that, if you were to die “out of season” your body would be buried then dug up and the bones taken for cremation.
The countryside is stunning, particularly the much photographed rice terraces. Surprisingly mechanisation has made very little inroads into the cultivation of rice in Bali and it is almost exclusively carried out by hand with bullocks roped in to pull the plough. Approximately 90% of the population are involved in agriculture and it is a hard existence providing a very poor
income. With increasing numbers of young people rejecting agriculture for less physically demanding and more rewarding jobs, particularly in tourism it is questionable how long the current practices can survive – visit Bali now before it all disappears!
A visit to Bali would be incomplete without a visit to a dance performance – so off we went to the traditional Barong dance at a village a few miles from Ubud. Incredibly gaudy costumes, over the top performances, an enthusiastically loud and “plinky” orchestra and an unintelligible plot made for an enjoyable hour or so with the relief of
knowing there was to be no audience participation this time!
Today we move on and have rented a villa set high on a hillside overlooking a river and rice paddies with views of the mountains beyond and hopefully with no rats in residence!
Ubud is a strange place – the streets are bustling with hundreds of
cars and motorbikes whilst tourists mix with locals in a mad frenzy of noise, colour and smells – however, down a dark alley a mere 50 yards from the mayhem of the street, it was another world. Artini bungalow was practically in the middle of the town yet the view from where I am typing this is of coconut palms, banana trees and rice paddies. The noise of motorbikes has been replaced by birds, particularly ducks which inhabit the rice fields (probably being fattened to become crispy ducks) and which make such a racket at dawn you never need an alarm clock. Mind you the frog chorus at night gives the ducks a good run for their money.We hired a driver for the day to take us on a t
our of north central Bali with specific instructions not to be taken to shops, factories or markets but to see the countryside and be able to get out and walk. One of our first impressions was of flags – not the usual gaudy oriental jobs but real flags – World Cup fever has hit Bali. Lining the main street in almost every village were flags of the competing countries with each family flying the flag of the country they support. We spent last night in a restaurant listening to football mad local cheering on Portugal against North Korea. It would be interesting to see what would happen should Indonesia ever make it to the finals.We were fortunate to arrive in Bali at the start of the Cremation Season and we were able to witness several of the very colourful and noisy cremation ceremonies. Our driver Wayan was able to bring us up to speed on a
spects of Hindu belief revolving round life, death, body and soul and the importance of cremation, including the interesting fact that, if you were to die “out of season” your body would be buried then dug up and the bones taken for cremation.The countryside is stunning, particularly the much photographed rice terraces. Surprisingly mechanisation has made very little inroads into the cultivation of rice in Bali and it is almost exclusively carried out by hand with bullocks roped in to pull the plough. Approximately 90% of the population are involved in agriculture and it is a hard existence providing a very poor
income. With increasing numbers of young people rejecting agriculture for less physically demanding and more rewarding jobs, particularly in tourism it is questionable how long the current practices can survive – visit Bali now before it all disappears!A visit to Bali would be incomplete without a visit to a dance performance – so off we went to the traditional Barong dance at a village a few miles from Ubud. Incredibly gaudy costumes, over the top performances, an enthusiastically loud and “plinky” orchestra and an unintelligible plot made for an enjoyable hour or so with the relief of
knowing there was to be no audience participation this time!Today we move on and have rented a villa set high on a hillside overlooking a river and rice paddies with views of the mountains beyond and hopefully with no rats in residence!
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