Rice, Rats and The World Cup

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 The noise of motorbikes has been replaced by birds, particularly ducks which inhabit the rice fields (probably being fattened to become crispy ducks) and which make such a racket at dawn you never need an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 tour 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 aspects 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!

Escalating luxury in Bali but the dancing was a bit iffy

For those readers who think that driving round Australia is a holiday – think again! It’s a tough life out there and, after over three months on the road, it was time to have a break from driving, putting up tents and cooking on a two burner gas stove, so here we are in Bali on our holidays. Mind you, if we thought packing then unpacking every couple of days was a thing of the past, we have had to think again.

Quite deliberately, the hotel that we chose was in the country and a little off the beaten track away from the crowds at the coast. Set beside a gorge, with a river running through it and surrounded by forest on one side and rice paddies on the other the place offers peace and tranquillity. Our room was fabulous, with the mandatory enormous four-poster bed, a huge bathroom and large veranda with day-bed – and all perched over water. In the grounds were the restaurant, swimming pool, and, over-looking a waterfall, a spa towards which Sandra made a beeline for her first massage of the holiday. In short we were very happy with the accommodation – but, as usual, things didn’t go to plan!

The hotel had overbooked and we were asked to move to another room. Our initial annoyance was somewhat tempered when we were shown to our new accommodation – we had been upgraded from a Garden Villa to a Pool Villa. The new room was twice as large as the previous one and, in our own private garden, there was our own private swimming pool with views of the river – so we grudgingly agreed to the move! One of the beauties of having your own pool is you are able to save money by reducing wear and tear on your swimming costumes – we didn’t wear any – and whilst there are many photos to prove this you will be relieved (or perhaps disappointed) to know they will not be going on the blog!

Initially we had booked in for four days but decided to stay on for a couple more days before moving to Ubud – “the Cultural Capital of Bali”. Unfortunately our Pool Villa had been booked so we had to pack up once again and, as there were no Garden or Pool Villas free, there was only one place they could offer us. At the top of the hill, with panoramic views over the river, forest and local temple and with rice paddies to the rear, was an individual villa which was the ultimate in luxury, particularly for people like us who had spent the previous three months in a tent using “long drop” toilets. With all the usual inside facilities (7 foot wide four poster bed, bar, sat TV etc) the outside was stunning – a king-sized day bed sat under a thatched pagoda next to the enormous infinity pool – on which, and in which, one could relax and take in the world below.

Of course it wasn’t all lotus eating and I had to endure several trips to the markets and shops of Ubud whilst Sandra indulged herself in the first of what will be many such forays – particularly when she found there were bead and fabric shops in quantity. The day after she gets back to Darwin she is exhibiting at a Craft Fair and her time in Bali was to be spent making a sign for her stall and producing more stock to sell – at least that was the plan. She will probably spend more time visiting markets and buying more raw materials.

Last night there was Balinese music and dancing and during the day hotel staff were busy cutting and twisting palm fronds to make decorations. Ever keen to learn new skills Sandra managed to get involved and was asked if she wanted to help (i.e. she was being her usual nosey self!) Looking for her I eventually found her sitting cross-legged in a circle with her new Balinese friends making decorations to hang up in the restaurant.

The evening itself was most enjoyable with a special Indonesian menu to go with the music and dance although the latter proved to be excruciatingly embarrassing for me. I have been trying, with the help of a delightful young receptionist called Eka (shades of Maria-Giovanna in Sorrento a couple of years ago) to learn a few words and phrases of Indonesian. Since other members of staff found out about this they have made a point of picking on me to test my very limited language skills. Thus, when it came to the last dance which was to be “interactive” i.e. audience participation, I knew with some inevitability that I would be picked on to make a fool of myself – and so it transpired. The very attractive, doll-like dancer had me up on the floor for a bit of public humiliation. Now an eightsome reel or Gay Gordons I can just about cope with but trying to bend ones fingers backwards whilst sexily shaking ones hips in time to plinky Balinese music is just not my forte – and it showed! Snake-hips I am not. Mind you, a short while later, Sandra also proved that her forte lay somewhere else. All common or garden tourist fodder, but what the hell - was are on holiday!

Tomorrow we move on to Ubud where hopefully we will strike lucky – although I’m not too sure. Whilst taking a break from shopping a couple of days ago we went looking for a bar for some well earned refreshment – i.e. a couple of Bintangs, the local beer. Down a dark alley we found a bar which did accommodation and, despite the place looking somewhat down at heel and probably rat infested, for some unfathomable reason we booked a couple of nights accommodation – from the sublime to the ……?

PS To those of you that posted "Happy Birthday" to Sandra - Thanks, she really appreciated it.