Change of Plans

The morning after making it to Ubud in Bali, I checked my email. My pal, Ieva, was in Ubud too, and we wanted to meet up. When neither of you has a phone and you're trying to meet up in a place that neither of you knows at all, this is a little more complicated than it would typically be. But Yande, the sweet guy who ran the homestay Ieva was staying in, had given us clearance to use him and his mobile phone as our go-between. I called him that evening, and he was at the airport - could I call after 6? Yes, I could. So I called later that night, and he and Ieva had come by my hotel earlier to pick me up while I was at dinner, but the hotel had no idea who I was.
That was because I was rooming with two Euros, and there was only one name on the room, that of the Dutch guy. At this point, I figured Yande and Ieva must think me a real flake - giving them the runaround, a fake hotel, etc. But Yande was sweet. He told me that Ieva was going on a bike tour of the Ubud countryside the next day, that I could join, that he would personally pick me up on his scooter at 7:15am the next morning and get me to Ieva before the bike tour. How sweet is that? I think Yande has a thing for nice American girls. No, I know Yande has a thing for nice American girls.

Ubud is the arts and crafts heart of Bali, and, I think, the expat center as well. It's got a lot of Westerners, a lot of yoga, a lot of shops selling beautiful things to foreigners, but it's not overwhelming or tacky. It's mellow, both in terms of hassle and night life. It's where the California types go in Bali, including me. Bali is majority Hindu, rather than Muslim, so the decorative elements and architecture are quite distinctive, especially compared to Muslim majority parts of Indonesia. As Ubud has grown, the rice paddies of the villages that used to be around it became a part of it. So you don't have to go far to feel like you're out of the city, hence the proliferation of companies offering bike tours.

The bike tour day was fantastic; Bali Eco Tours claims to be the first and the best company. It's somewhat plush, but not too much, and the guide gives you loads of insight into Balinese culture. We started off with breakfast overlooking Mount Bratu, one of Bali's massive and active volcanoes (over 1700m high!). Then it was off to see a Balinese garden with the plants that they grow for their own use, like snakefruit, cacoa, peppers, and gingko. Then, it was a coffee plantation, where we got to taste a variety of coffees and hot chocolote, including kopi luwak, which is coffee made from the beans that have been fermented inside a civet's digestive tract. Yummy! After all that, we got on our bikes and headed through the countryside, winding through narrow lanes in rice paddies, up and down through villages where the children sing "hello, hello" and high five you as you pass. It was lovely. It was hot. It was severely humid. After a few hours of that, we hit the main road and got to cool off with cold washcloths (perhaps the best touch of a tour that had many lovely touches), and then had a delicious Balinese lunch.

The next day Ieva and I had what she dubbed our "old white lady day." It's an apt description of a day of leisure for a certain demographic. We started the day with a 7am yoga class in an open air studio overlooking rice paddies with birds chirping non-stop, had a totally California brunch at the studio's cafe, and then we went shopping. I got my Indonesian souvenir, a pair of earrings that don't even look Balinese, much less Indonesian, but they are so lovely they had to be mine. We wandered through steamy markets and posh shops, and then we went for facials, massages, pedicures, and manicures, complete with flower petal filled baths. If that's the old white lady life, then I am gonna be great at it.

But we hankered for the beach, so we got up early the following day to leave Ubud. Another mini-bus to the east coast of Bali, and then the fast boat to Gili Trewongan. To the east of Bali is the island of Lombok. Off the northwest coast of Lombok, there are three tiny islands, from east to west: Gili Air, Gili Meno, and Gili Trewongan. The Gilis made a genius move a few decades back - they banned motorbikes and cars. The only land transport, aside from pedipower, are horse-drawn carts. Known for their laid-back charm, scuba diving, snorkeling and being conducive to deep relaxation, they were on both Ieva's and my lists of places to check out. Trewongan is the one that the fast boat takes you to in about an hour; the slow boat takes 4, which gives you a sense of how slow slow boats go and how spread out Indonesia is. Trewongan is the biggest and liveliest, possessing the islands' only ATM machines and real party vibe. We didn't want that. Meno is the quietest, least developed, and most expensive. Air is, like Goldlilocks' preferred porridge, just right. There are cafes clustered near the harbor, but it thins out after a ways. There's not an excess of things to do, which is wonderful. Because if I were busy, would I be able to type my blog post while sitting in a hammock with a view of the ocean and Lombok in the distance?


After we arrived in Gili Air, I had some tummy trouble, and I realized I was tired of moving around. I had planned on spending a few days here, then heading back to Bali to check out the east coast before flying out to Australia on the sixth. But the living is just too easy here. I decided to stay here until I jet off for Oz. Ieva left a couple of days ago to go on her surf boat excursion, so it's just me holding down the fort, which is a two level bamboo bungalow. There's a big bed downstairs, but there's also a mattress in addition to the hammocks upstairs, on a covered but open air second story. Upon Ieva's recommendation, I lugged the fan up the stairs and now sleep in the fresh ocean air. The bungalow faces east, so you open your eyes at dawn and see the sun rising over the water. You may be wondering why I open my eyes at dawn? Two reasons - roosters and the muzzein. After traveling in Muslim countries for three months, a muzzein's dawn call to prayer stirs me, but it doesn't keep me up for long. These Gili roosters make a real racket though and they roost thisclose to my bungalow. I can sleep through it, but I'm trying out some healthy living instead. I get up, meditate, and do some yoga or I go on a jog around the island. Then I get my breakfast at 7:30. Breakfast is invariably delicious. The cook at Ali's Homestay, the name of my home here, is a skilled woman. Her omelets are perfectly seasoned. Her banana pancakes, really more like a crepe, are the best I've had yet, and I've been sampling them regularly as they are served wherever backpackers are served. I don't have space enough here to go on about her divine fish curries and delicious gado gado and urap urap. But you get my point. Of course, breakfast is on the beach. Pretty much everything is on an island that you can circumnavigate at a strolling pace in about 90 minutes.

After breakfast, I generally head 25 meters down the road to the dive shop and get kitted up for the morning dive. Depending on my appetite for expense, I can dive twice more a day. I'm glad I got my advanced certification in Egypt because there are lots of sharks in these waters, only they tend to be a bit deeper than you can go without your advanced. The coral here is pretty devastated, lots of bleaching and broken bits on the sea bed as well as the beach. The main culprit? El Nino. I hate that meteorological phenomenon! A history of dynamite fishing and very warm waters probably contributed too. Coral only grows in a narrow band of temperatures, too hot and too cold are both problematic. That said, the variety of sea life here is very impressive. Indonesia lies where the Pacific and Indian Oceans meet, and the biodiversity is truly amazing. In just a few days, I've seen white-tipped sharks, sea snakes, loads of cuttlefish - sometimes changing color and shape, nudibranches, which are sea slugs and sound ugly but they tend to be quite adorable and colorful, more different kinds of starfish in one spot than I've seen before, lobster, clownfish (of Finding Nemo fame) guarding their anemones fiercely, all kinds of stuff. The diving has done me good too. In the last 6 weeks, I've more than doubled my dive count, and I notice the difference in my proficiency level. After diving, I might read in the hammock, which might lead to a nap, then I wake up hungry and head off to grab a meal and wash it down fresh squeezed watermelon juice and Bintang (the Indonesian version of Heineken).

I have one more day of this blissful existence, and then it's off to Australia. Occasionally over the last three months, I have told myself, just wait until you get to Australia. You'll be able to: show your shoulders, understand people (mostly), eat pork, go into bars without being the only female present, eat pork, experience western style dining, (i.e. main courses are brought out for all diners simultaneously, rather than the Asian way of starting all dishes at the same time, and bringing each out as it's ready), find whole grain bread, eat pork, show your knees, and eat pork. All that stuff still has appeal, but I could happily spend another week on this little island. I have not had close to my fill of Indonesia. I like it so much I may even brave the rainy season to come back. This is saying something because it rained so much in one hour yesterday that the sand path around the island flooded higher than my ankles.

Next stop, Darwin, Australia.