More Waterfalls, Lakes, Temples and Rice Fields

On my second day with the motorcycle, I headed Northwest from Ubud, leading me through a series of unmarked roads and connected towns, stopping more than a few times to try to ensure that I continued on in the right direction, using the minuscule bits of Indonesian and sign language to try to get my message across to some of the true locals that actually don't speak any English (the tourist industry in Bali is quite fluent in English, however). As with the day before, I rode past field after picturesque field, flooded with rice in the foreground and statuesque, towering palms in the background, the small green and yellow stalks poking out through the standing water, reflecting the sun and clouds from the blue sky above. After about an hour, I passed a few decorated altars for a small town ceremony and soon saw a stately temple surrounded by a moat, so I decided to stop and check it out. I spoke with some of the other tourists there and found out that this is actually a site called Pura Taman Ayun, the temples of the royal family a few centuries ago. I also met up with a Dutch woman and her son whom I had seen earlier on the trip in Java. Within the site, well-groomed green grass eventually gives way to some low temple walls, surrounding a miniature moat and a series of ascending thatched, multi-tiered Balinese Hindu temples. The temples have about eight or nine levels, cut to square sized thatched roofs, stacked atop one another with a bit of spacing in between, sort of giving the impressive of a man-made pine tree. Within the moat stand probably 10 of these small temples, along with a few ubiquitous palm trees, just for effect. I spent an hour enjoying the well-maintained harmony of the area, and then I was ready to move on again, heading up towards another set of volcanoes and lakes in central Bali.

As traffic moved along, I passed my Dutch friends on the road, then fell behind, then passed again, as is the course with more maneuverable motorcycles versus larger vehicles in Balinese traffic. While riding along, enjoying the fresh air of my open-faced helmet, I caught a tiny glimpse of a fleeting black object, just as it hit me smack in the eye. I presume it was a bumblebee or something of that size, and I did manage to close my eye just in time, but the force of the solid bug hitting me at 40 mph was enough to keep my eye watering and throbbing for the next 30 minutes of riding, though I was fine after that. Also along the way, I came across another roadblock, this time for one of the numerous ceremonies in the devout small towns of the island. This one was a funeral ceremony, where the whole village gathered around in traditional outfits, following the procession and finishing off the road-blocking event with a huge float with a carved white horse atop a massive pedestal which was then thrown off the side of the road into a large pit where the whole piece was burned, though we luckily didn't have to wait for that portion. Although it makes it tough to travel quickly through the small towns, I was amazed by the frequency and breadth of these ceremonies, both from seeing this one and a few along the way to the river rafting site.

Moving on, I climbed up a high mountain pass, winding back and forth, hoping to find the road intact around a series of blind turns, honking around each one in hopes of not meeting a truck deciding to cut the corner a little too close (which happens quite often). Along the top of the mountain, views of the vegetable gardens below gave way to the vast green interior of hills and rice fields, making their way back down to the coastal plains. Also along the top, in not so natural of a setting, a local man had a stand with some exotic wildlife for pictures, though I felt bad for the shivering flying fox, iguana and python, as this cool mountain weather was certainly not their natural habitat. Soon afterwards, I passed down the mountain to another picturesque lake, surrounded by a few small mountains and partially covered in the nearly perpetual mist of the area. This lake, Danau Bratan, is also home to one of Bali's most photographed temples, the scenic Pura Ulun Danau Bratan. A small set of temples stand proudly in the lake, looking over the adjacent courtyard and worshippers, often portrayed with the dark, brooding landscape of the cloudy mountains in the background.

From Danau Bratan, the road again climbed up a winding mountainside, passing groups of monkeys along the side of the road, waiting for passing tourists to stop and offer a few bananas and pose for pictures. After cresting the mountain, the curvy road led me to an almost imperceptibly marked waterfall with a tiny parking area. There was another nominal fee for entrance into the park, and I followed behind a French tour group to the set of waterfalls in the town of Gitgit. Unfortunately, the tour group wasn't too friendly, but they eventually moved on, so I had the trail to myself again, passing by a group of children on a huge rope swing, diving into the cool pools of water below. Around the corner was the first of the three waterfalls in the area, a dark canyon revealing an opening in the rocks, releasing a powerful stream of water about 35 feet into the pool below, surrounded by large boulders and rock walls. Just a few minutes downstream, the creek narrowed and dropped again over a thin crevasse, creating a blue green pool amidst the greenery, banana plants and bamboo. The final waterfall required a little more effort and asking directions of some local children as a few trails veered off in all directions, though I found my way up and down the narrow, though mostly paved, trail, dodging a few chickens and over-protective dogs along the way. The final set of falls seemed to be more a series of cascades in a bigger opening of the river, ending with a large waterfall (around 30 feet high) surrounded by hanging vegetation that would have made a great picture if not for the mix of sunlight and shade. Nearby, I found a nice boulder and perched myself along the edge, enjoying the natural serenity of the majestic waterfalls. Getting later in the afternoon, I decided that I'd have time for one more stop, another waterfall in the town of Munduk.

Getting to Munduk required more steep, windy roads, passing along the ridgeline of another tiny mountain range overlooking two more scenic lakes before heading back down towards the Northern coast of the island. Again, I worried about making it back up the steep road, especially after talking with a French guy who said his scooter had quite a bit of trouble making it up the hills. Nevertheless, I continued on, finding another tiny sign and parking lot for the waterfalls. I hurried down the trail, knowing that I didn't have a lot of time to spare, as it would be getting dark in a couple of hours, and I was still a long way from home. I wandered through the noticeably drier forest of the area and soon could hear the sound of the thundering falls, like music to my ears. Up a small set of stairs, the amphitheater-like setting opened up to me, showing off a massive 75-100 foot waterfall, powerfully falling off a sheer cliff into the U-shaped area below, covered in trees along the ridge and huge ivy leaves clinging to the walls of the rocks, forming a stately green backdrop for the waterfall. Having seen many waterfalls in my life, I sometimes find myself disappointed, but this certainly wasn't one of those times, as this was another masterpiece that deserved a few moments of quiet contemplation. Just to the left of the tiny stairway, the powerful mist of the waterfall was enough to soak you if you stayed there long enough, as proven by a few random visitors who showed up here and there, but I mostly had the place to myself. The site was incredible, and I wished I could stay longer than 45 minutes, but I knew I had to get back, and my camera battery had also died, so my typical photo session didn't last nearly as long as it would have in a place as scenic as this.

As I headed back in the late afternoon, I passed up and down again and again, becoming fully aware that my small motorcycle wasn't the most comfortable day cruiser, especially for a few long day trips. I adjusted in the seat, moved backwards and forwards, side to side, hoping to find a slightly more comfortable position, ready to be back in Ubud. I passed through a few dark clouds, thinking that rain might make things even worse, but I was only treated to a few sprinkles before heading back down out of the mountains, into the clear skies of the valleys below. Eventually, I made it back to the outskirts of Ubud, just as the sun was setting in my eyes, making navigating an unusually large amount of traffic a little more stressful than it already was. And just to add to the misery of my aching body, I ended up on a different road in the city, not recognizing where I was and having to circle back around the city until I finally found a road that I recognized, squeezing along the shoulder of the one-way road in the opposite direction (quite a common practice in Bali) and finally getting back to my hotel, local cafe and inviting bed for a much-anticipated rest and end to a long day of temples and waterfalls.

(A typical view of the young rice fields lining the country roads of Bali. I would recommend waiting until after the harvest before trying to eat this.)

(Pura Taman Ayun - the fortuitous, unexpected stop along my way to the lakes and volcanoes of the island.)

(Again, I was amazed at how painful it is to have someone take a picture that included both me and the temples behind me. This is the best one that I got.)

(The string of temples were surrounded by a small stone wall and a moat, keeping the plebeians away from the royal parts of the park. As you'd guess, I fall into the former category.)

(This would be a nice, serene image, but thanks to mass marketing, I can't help but think of the Verizon commercials with all of the trees and buildings resembling a strong reception signal on a cell phone.)

(Just minutes before being hit in the eye by a large bug while speeding down the road, causing quite a bit of pain and eye-watering. But I wasn't crying. Nope.)

(The iconic temple at Danau Bratan. Perched at the base of a few mountains, the temperature here was actually a little cold, especially with some strong winds blowing through, bringing streams of clouds over the surrounding peaks.)

(The first of three sets of waterfalls at Gitgit, after the pushy French tour group squeezed past me, observed the water for two minutes and pushed their way back through the narrow trail.)

(The second of the three falls, this one was higher, falling into a blue green pool at the bottom.)

(Then further around the windy roads and down some very steep hills, I made it to this scenic waterfall in Munduk. My camera battery was all but dead, but I was luckily able to squeeze in one or two quick pictures of the spectacular place and spent the rest of the time staring in awe.)

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Cruisin' the Countryside of Bali

Using Ubud as a home base, this central Bali location was the perfect place for day trips around the island, and ever since talking to another traveller in Malaysia who had come from Bali, I knew that a motorcycle would be the perfect way to explore the area. Cheap motorcycle and scooter rentals can be found on every other corner in the tourist parts of town, and though I could have saved a little bit of money with a scooter, I opted for a (slightly) more powerful motorcycle, mostly because it seemed like more fun, and it actually looked a lot like the motorcycle that I had during college. Unfortunately, the bigger bikes here mean 125cc, which is still a really small motorcycle, so this was no sport cruiser, but I knew it would serve its purpose well. So, after a tiny bit of bargaining, I got my helmet and Suzuki Thunder for $7 a day, though I still had to go fill up with gasoline, available at many random corner stores where they literally have old liquor bottles filled with gasoline, stored in an open cabinet on the roadside, selling for only about 50 cents per liter. Fortunately, both motorcycle riding and driving on the left hand side of the road came back to me quickly, though I would have to get used to the crazy driving habits and incessant honking on the narrow, potholed roads.

I made an early stop on the edge of town at the Monkey Forest, and then once back on the road, I immediately began to see the magnificent Bali which I had envisioned. Just outside of Ubud, I passed through a few small villages wrapped around the one main road going through town, surrounded by forest and some flat fields of rice, stretching off into the distance. My first stop was only about 20 minutes outside of the city, a terraced rice field called Tegallalang that I had seen in pictures before. Worried that I wouldn't know it when I saw it, I slowly passed by a few small rice terraces before the shoulder of the road dropped off, revealing a massive set of rice paddies along the right side, shining bright green in the sunlight. I parked along the road, passed a few vendors trying to sell local handicrafts and began walking down one of the many stairways into the viewing areas. In front of me were piles and piles of green and brown rice fields, stacked on top of each other down and back up the small ravine, split by a small creek and broken up by random stands of palm trees, all backed by thick green vegetation on the horizon. Most of the rice paddies were in their early state, revealing small stalks of rice poking up through the brown water, hemmed in by green mounds of grass, keeping the water in each area. A few workers down below toiled in their respective plot, plowing the mud, stamping it down with their feet or even planting the bunches of rice stalks for the next harvest. One 'worker' wandered just below the viewing platform, wearing his hat woven from banana leaves and posing for pictures, of course asking for a small donation for the picture. Along the rim of the multi-hued hills, there are a few overpriced restaurants serving basic rice and noodle dishes in private thatched huts, offering idyllic vistas of the rice fields just below. Though I usually try to stay away from these sort of tourist places, the scenery was too good to be true, and the overpriced fried rice was actually only $4, so I figured I could splurge just this once. My table sat just a few feet away from the edge of the platform, revealing the top of a few yellow-green palm trees and layers upon layers of rice fields just behind them. This was one of the iconic images of Bali (and Southeast Asia in general) that I had always hoped to see, so in spite of the development of the lookout point, I was still amazed to see the incredible terraces that still produce rice for the villages to this day.

From Tegallalang, I headed further into the center of the green island, passing more flat rice fields and eventually climbing up into higher elevations. Along the way, I weaved in and out of other motorcycles, large trucks and tourist vans, each of them seeming resolved to not give up their share of the road, even if that share happened to be in oncoming lanes of traffic, hence the frequent horns and last minute braking and swerving. Though, I didn't see any accidents, so I presume that it mostly works, but I have to say that I prefer the driving etiquette back home to this controlled chaos, particularly when trying to read the infrequent road signs and figure out where to go, all the while keeping on eye on the dogs, kids and other vehicles that could pass in front at a moment's notice, presuming that you'll stop for them. As traffic slowed on my small road, I looked ahead and saw a few people pulled over, realizing that there was a sort of police roadblock ahead. This was actually my one fear, as technically you have to have an international driver's license to drive in Indonesia as a foreigner, so police often use this fact in Bali to extort bribes from tourists on scooters and motorbikes, and I had already heard many stories about this happening in Kuta. So, I slowed down and prepared my speech in my head. My guide from the rafting tour had mentioned to me that writing down the officer's name and badge number would often prevent them from asking for bribes, or at least excessive ones, so I was prepared to try that, but as I was about to stop, the policeman simply waved me past, and I was on my way, heading back up the winding road into the highlands of Bali.

I passed through a small mountain town and hit another roadblock, this one being a toll for a popular road among tourists leading down past one dormant volcano to a large lake on the base of another volcano. I paid the small toll and headed down the steep road, hoping my motorcycle would be strong enough to make it back up the hairpin turns and treacherous climb. As I made my way down the mountain, the valley opened up, revealing a small village with a few local shops and some farmland of rice, cabbage and some other vegetables lining the shores of the serene lake. I passed around the lake, eventually getting to a tiny dirt trail that seemed a little too tricky for my motorcycle, so I turned back around and headed the other way, passing the other half of the lake, winding in and out, up and down around the small hills and black-rock studded landscape of yellow grass, dried out from the intense sun of the dry season. I finally ended up at the other end of the road in a tiny town where it looked like not too many tourists visit, again passing by some tiny 'convenience' stores (wooden huts with a few random items for sale) and locals walking up and down the road, staring at me as they tried to figure out why I might be visiting this corner of the island. Enjoying my day getting away from the truly developed parts of Bali, I headed back to Ubud for the night, ready for another day of exploring after relaxing for the evening.

(The magnificent rice terraces at Tegallalang.)

(Most of the fields had just been harvested, leaving green borders filled with muddy water, though still quite impressive.)

(Wandering around the rim of the terraces, I saw a few workers and one fake worker, posing for pictures while the others did the painful manual labor.)

(The view from the middle, fairly similar to some of the other views.)

(One of the most inspiring settings that I've ever had for a lunch. The fried rice and chicken was actually pretty good, too.)

(Fortunately the vendors left me alone after just a few tries to sell me some handicrafts, so it was quite peaceful relaxing around this incredible scenery.)

(My tiny motorcycle - it looks fine, but the engine is tiny, halfway down one of the steep hills to the volcanic lake below.)

(On the way back to town, I couldn't resist stopping again for more tranquility and a few more pictures. This place is one of the iconic images of green, peaceful Bali, a nice change from the South coast of tourists.)

(In these little huts are tiny tables and seating on the floor, making another marvelous setting for a meal.)

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The Sacred Monkey Forest, Ubud

Just on the edge of downtown Ubud sits Mandala Wisata Wanara Wana, better known as the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, conveniently located at the end of Monkey Forest Road, one of the main roads in town. The name itself would have drawn me in, but I had also heard stories of the very outgoing, almost domesticated inhabitants from others, so I stopped at the park on the way out of town on my first morning with the motorcycle. After paying the small entrance fee, I found sellers of bunches of bananas, warning people to hide their food after they bought it. Just down the small path, I entered into the semi-thick forest, shaded by a large canopy of greenery, slowly revealing the resident monkeys, one by one at first, hidden amongst the trees and shrubbery, then almost overtaking the main trail by the time I got to the center of the small park. These long-tailed macaques are medium sized greyish-brown monkeys, and they are certainly accustomed to humans in their domain. Lounging on the trail and around the fringes of the paths, these monkeys keep their eyes (and noses) open for passing tourists, hoping to find some free handouts. There are stories of the monkeys getting very aggressive, climbing over people, ripping open bags and even biting people, so it really was important for people to hide any food on them before entering the park. Also, I noticed that once a person had fed a monkey, the other monkeys remembered that person, even much later, perhaps smelling the food residue or just being that perceptive, hoping for another free meal.

As I passed through the park, I arrived near the back at a temple semi-hidden in the foliage, surrounded by a bunch of monkeys laying around, munching on nuts and even opening a small water bottle and pouring it out, so that they could drink from it. A few young babies poked their heads out from behind their mothers, though retreating quickly back into her arms or onto her back at any sign of danger. In the meantime, the adolescents played, fighting with each other, chasing one another up and down the trees, every once in a while angering the dominant males who would announce their displeasure with a few frightening snarls, baring its teeth and chasing away the playful younger members of the group. In order to actually enter the temple, I had to borrow a traditional sarong and waist tie to be properly dressed in the Hindu shrine. Similar to many of the other temples in Ubud, this was a stone creation with intricate carvings and a few elaborate doorways, though not too much else. While inside, I found another tourist to take a picture of me in front of the temple, so I set down my backpack and got ready. Within seconds, one of the medium-sized males had appeared out of nowhere, tugging powerfully on the large water bottle extruding from the side of my backpack. Not willing to just give it away, I ran over and grabbed the water bottle from the other end, resulting in a bit of tug-of-war with the surprisingly strong monkey. He bared his teeth and hissed at me, which I probably should have taken as a sign to just let him have it, though I didn't let go, eventually winning out and snatching the bottle out of his hands as he walked away defeated, probably moving on to his next target. Fortunately I didn't have any food in my bag, as I think he wouldn't have given up so easily if that were the case.

Further in the park, a few trails passed down through a massive grove of trees, a few of which had hanging vines and roots nearly 100 feet tall. Beyond that, there was a tiny concrete path along a small creek that may have been scenic if not for a few bits of trash stuck in the water. Two concrete Komodo dragons also lined the path where I met a few friendly locals before moving back towards the entrance of the park. Passing through the center again, I found one of the park 'rangers' explaining to a few tourists that you have to let go immediately when a monkey grabs for the food, as they will otherwise become very aggressive. Taking that advice to the extreme, I saw a few people who just threw their bunch of bananas to the ground and backed away as the monkeys approached, which also worked out safely for both sides. Seeing literally one to two hundred of these monkeys was great, but it seems like they are really way too accustomed to and unafraid of humans, and I'm surprised that there are actually not more reports of people being bitten or attacked by the animals, as they still are instinctively wild.

(Pleasantly chomping away on an orange, one of the many monkeys of the forest named for them.)

(Some of the hundreds of monkeys, just lying around, eating the nuts and water stolen from nearby tourists.)

(This tiny little guy finally ventured out from his mother's arms to try a few nuts that might have been a little big for his mouth.)

(After a short excursion out, the little guy was ready for another hug and the comfort of his mother.)

(New and potential parents take note - interesting child control method here.)

(Taking a break from terrorizing the tourists.)

(Me and my traditional sarong and sash. There was a worker just outside showing us how to tie these correctly before we were allowed to enter the temple in the middle of the sanctuary.)

(As I was posing for the previous picture, this cheeky little guy appeared out of nowhere and tried to steal my water bottle from my backpack, and I had already witnessed them opening and drinking from another water bottle, so he knew what he was doing.)

(But I wasn't going to give up that easily. I instinctively grabbed the water bottle back. Here you can see the monkey snarling and swiping at me.)

(After winning the struggle, I apparently admonished the monkey for his behavior. Fortunately the guy taking my picture the first time managed to capture this whole episode.)

(Standing triumphantly over the 20 pound monkey. He looked much bigger in the heat of battle.)

(One more shot of one of the babies on the way out of the park.)

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Ubud - the Center of Bali

After braving the crowds of Kuta for some adventurous days of surfing and white-water rafting, I was ready to head up to the (geographical and cultural) center of Bali, the city of Ubud. Despite being a popular tourist stop, Ubud has managed to retain some of its character and is well regarded for its nightly performances of many different types of traditional dances and music. After the one to two hour bus ride, I once again hit the streets in search of a cheap place to stay, finding that (as in many places) the prices during the high season are much higher than what is listed in my guidebook, and, even worse, many of the places were already full by lunchtime. I met a fellow hotel-seeker along the way, comparing places that we'd already tried and trying to figure out where to go next. Fortunately the temperature in Bali is (slightly) cooler than other parts of Indonesia, but after about 30 minutes of walking in the heat, I was sweaty and ready for a resolution. I came across a local 'homestay', basically meaning that the family lives in the front of the property and has about four rooms in the back, either in separate buildings or in an attached, larger building. The price was right ($10 a night), and the friendly owners showed me to the surprisingly nice rooms. As with many of the storefronts, plazas and temples along the streets of Ubud, the entrance is marked with a temple-like open doorway, passing through a narrow walkway, leading back to a plaza or courtyard surrounded with plants and flowers which then give way to the residence or restaurants. Often lining the ground along the way are the daily offerings of incense, rice, candy and flowers, set in the square banana leaf offering plates that are constructed every single day by the women of the village.

Setting out in Ubud, I was impressed by the semblance of authentic culture that is still intact, despite the large numbers of visitors. The traditional entrances, the offerings and even the typical clothing of many of the people still has a uniquely Balinese feel, with many of the men wearing the traditional sarongs and bandanas on their heads. Walking up and down the streets, I passed temple after temple, some big, some small, some filled with worshippers, others completely empty except for the prayer offerings on the ground. In the center of town is one of the more important temples, concealed by an elaborate entranceway and walls blocking most of the view from the main road. Inside, intricate sculpted walls and shrines lead to an inner sanctuary and more impressive scenery. A neighboring temple with a similar entranceway opens up to a narrow bridge leading across a large pond filled with lily pads on both sides, opening up again to the temple walls and entrances into the actual temple hidden behind golden doorways on each corner. Just outside, I stopped for a lunch break at one of the most popular restaurants in the city, where locals and tourists gather and share long tables with floor seating or a few smaller tables with chairs (for the less flexible), all awaiting the same meal - babi guling. Babi guling is the name for suckling pig, a popular dish consisting of a huge roasted pig, where your meal consists of slices of the succulent pork and a piece of the crunchy, caramelized skin, served with rice, garlic, chili and a few other Balinese spices. This is also noteworthy for pork-lovers because Bali is one of the few places in Muslim Indonesia where you can really eat a dish like this, as pig and dog are off limits in the traditional Muslim parts of the country (yes, dog is eaten in some parts of the country). The meal itself was pretty good, though I'm not really a fan of pork, so I wasn't as impressed as some other visitors. For me, one of my best meals was next door, later that night. I found myself in a fairly nice restaurant where I had a wonderful plate of opor ayam, a chicken curry dish with a mix of coconut milk, chili and ginger, served with rice and vegetables, forming an incredible, complex taste combination that would be hard to match.

Apart from the food, the nightly performances are what enchant the visitors in this charming little city, so I decided to check out a show on my first night there. I opted for one of the most popular, the Kecak (Ke-chak) and Fire Dance. This is a performance based on a traditional Hindu story and Ramayana ballet, relating the tale of a king and his love for a woman, a competing suitor and the monkey army that helps the king to win the woman of his dreams. The monkey army is portrayed by a group of shirtless men in black and white checkered sarongs, alternately seated and standing around the center of the stage, occupied by a throne of fire, chanting and waving their arms back and forth in unison, creating a vocal orchestra with the sounds of Chek-Chek-Chek and a few other moans. With only their voices, they build up and wind down the suspense as the few main characters dance around the stage in regal costumes, especially the women who come in traditional massive golden headdresses, lots of makeup and flowing, colorful dresses, performing very precise dances where even the direction of their bright eyes is choreographed. In the end, of course, the good ruler wins over the evil one, with the monkey army engulfing the evil ruler and taking him away before coming back out to thank the crowd for the performance. Following the kecak performance, a huge fire of dried coconuts and gasoline was lit in the middle of the stage, and a single performer appeared, carrying a costume creating the appearance of riding on a horse, flashing in and out of the fire while in some sort of trance. He would shuffle through the fire, kicking the coconut shards dangerously close to the crowd and then circling back around for another run as the helpers pushed the fire back towards the middle of the stage. The 90 minute performance was quite interesting, and the setting is almost as impressive, as most of these shows take place in outdoor courtyards in the actual temples, so the elaborate Hindu shrines set the backdrop for the show with just a circle of one to two hundred chairs surrounding the cobblestone stage. Unfortunately, I had a rather obnoxious American who decided to take the open seat next to me, immediately trying to show off his knowledge of the culture and telling me, the usher and anyone that would listen about how many times he has seen these shows. Though, he fervently complained that there was no gamelan, the traditional bamboo pipe drums, flutes and other instruments popular in Bali, though the workers assured him again and again that the Kecak performance never has the orchestra, backed only by the a capella sounds of the performers themselves. Still he complained that he'd been going to this sort of show for 25-30 years now, and he'd never seen one with an orchestra. He also proceeded to try to tell me about the records he has of the traditional story, the history of the performance and kept updating me with what was going on throughout the show with his helpful comments and grunts of pleasure or disbelief. Ironically, in the end, he proclaimed this to be the best interpretation of Kecak that he'd ever seen, so I guess I choose a good one.

On the way back from the performance, I saw the lights were still on in the temple surrounded by the lotus pond, so I decided to stop in and see what was going on. On stage were a few dancers, practicing their traditional moves, presumably for a show later in the week, moving in perfect rhythm with the accompanying Gamelan orchestra of flutes, bamboo pipes and drums. Five or ten tourists had gathered to watch, so I sat for a while, enjoying the second performance of the night, though the dancers were just wearing street clothes, taking turns from one song to the next. Though it was just a practice, this free performance was a great way to see another of the many traditional dance styles in Bali, ending with the dancers asking us to join them (though we were all intimidated by their skill) and a chance to talk with them and the musicians, all very friendly and happy to share any information about their culture. I finished off the night with a cheap ice cream cone, one of my recent addictions, as the prepackaged kind are cheap and fairly easy to find, and they make a great dessert after a spicy dinner.

Ubud turned out to be a much more relaxing and culturally-interesting option than Kuta, offering a glimpse into the amazing Balinese culture while still being quite easy for travellers who don't happen to speak much Indonesian. Ready for an even more authentic Balinese experience, I wandered the streets the next day and found a place to rent a motorcycle for a few days, giving me a chance to explore some of the magnificent countryside.

(Opor ayam - a wonderful combination of chicken and coconut milk curry. This really was amazing.)

(The elaborate door revealing the entrance to one of the many temples of Ubud.)

(A lotus pond leading to a stage and hidden temple. This is the stage where I stopped later in the evening to watch a practice dance performance.)

(Even the statues wear the traditional hats and sarongs.)

(Along the main street in downtown Ubud, you can't escape the temples.)

(Babi guling - suckling pig. Pieces of this guy are served with rice and Balinese spices. This is also popular because the Balinese are Hindu and thus able to eat pig, as it is halal (forbidden) in most of Muslim Indonesia.)

(A local woman laying down plates full of offerings for the day. These trays of flowers, food and banana leaves are good for appeasing gods and ants for the entire day, and then the whole process begins again the next day.)

(Another picturesque temple entrance.)

(The evening setting for the Kecak show. With a few rows of chairs surrounding the temple's grounds, we were treated to an interesting show portraying a classic Hindu tale of good and evil. I won't give away who wins.)

(Around 50 men in sarongs worship the fire while singing haunting chants and dancing around, portraying the monkey army in the story.)

(Along with the monkey army, there were two women and two men as the main characters. Perfectly choreographed, it was quite a show.)

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Rafting Through the Heart of Bali

Braving the tourist masses of Kuta, after my surfing adventure, I decided to take a white-water rafting day trip, finding a package out to the Eastern hills of Bali for three hours of rafting for only $25, including a buffet lunch. A minivan picked me up directly from my hotel, and I enjoyed the view from the front of the van for the 1 hour drive through the Balinese countryside, having my own guided tour from the extremely friendly guide/driver. Like most of the Balinese, he is Hindu and had a small shrine and offering to the gods on his dashboard, a small banana leaf wrapped up into a square, filled with bits of rice, candy, coins and a few flowers. Along the roads of Bali, these tiny offerings are found outside nearly every hotel and household, a morning ritual of placing these small baskets and incense and removing the ones from the previous days, though often giving ants plenty of food to eat during the day. The other members of my group were two Japanese women (and the driver even managed a few phrases in Japanese) and a young Australian couple from Perth. After each bump or sudden stop, our driver would flash his friendly smile and say "Sorrrryyyyy," keeping those in the back seat awake for most of the trip. We were briefly stopped on a small road through the mountains by a ceremonial procession consisting of a number of vehicles decorated with flowers and streamers, along with large cargo trucks carrying the locals down to the beach for some sort of ceremony with all of the people dressed in their traditional Balinese clothing, often colorful sarongs and dresses for the women and brownish, patterned sarongs for the men with a white shirt and a black and white or brownish bandana tied around their head, sort of backwards, tying in the front and leaving the tops of their head exposed (so perhaps Tupac got his style cues from them, though I sort of doubt it). Along the way, our driver pointed out little bits about the culture and took us through the 'scenic route,' veering from the main road for some smaller roads through rice paddies and up the side of a few mountains. Eventually, we made it up a bumpy, rocky trail to the starting point, where I was paired with the two Australians, Chane (Shane) and his girlfriend whose name was not as memorable, along with our local guide. We climbed down the steep stairs into the green, forested gorge and hopped into our rafts.

The narrow, clear river is said to be one of the fastest and cleanest in Bali, compared to a few of the other more popular routes, filled with tourists and perhaps a bit of garbage. We began passing through thick foliage of alternating rice fields, banana trees and huge palm trees, bumping our way around and over the large boulders strewn throughout the river. Soon after the start, we had to walk around a series of two sheer drops, though our guide jumped in for the descent, probably affording him the most enjoyment of the whole trip for someone who does this day in and day out. From there, we continued through the spectacular scenery, passing a few groups here and there and taking in the whole array of green hues along the banks of the cold river. Along the way, we saw a few local children playing in the water, bathing or just waiting to wave at the passing tourists. Somehow, every child in Indonesia seems to have mastered the phrase, "Hello, Mister," often with the r rolled at the end, making it more like "Hello, meeesterrrrrrr." We stopped for lunch at a picturesque waterfall, and we then passed under the thin waterfall, streaming down from the green cliffs above the narrow gorge as it passed through one of the rocky chasms along the way and drenching all who dared to pass beneath it. Speaking just a bit of English, our guide instructed us along the way, though the most important command was "Boom boom," meaning to brace yourself as we were about to hit a rock, a wall or both. Also essential was the "duck" command, as we passed within inches of many bamboo bridges across the river, leaving just a tiny bit of space between the top of the raft and the beams, essentially meaning that we had to cower down into the raft to avoid hitting our heads.

Our final adventure was a waterfall that we had been warned about, and our guide made sure we were all holding on tightly, packed into the rack as much as we could to keep us in and be ready for the impact. Not knowing what we were getting into, we soon saw the river disappear. As we held on, we passed over a sheer drop, going vertically straight down about 15 feet before hitting the water below hard and bouncing around in the raft. None of us were thrown out, so we bailed a bit of water from the raft, and we were quickly at the end of the trip, greeted by children with fresh flowers hoping to get a small tip from us. Up the steep hill, we found showers with towels and a restaurant overlooking the river and massive terraced rice fields, cutting into the sides of the green hills all around us. The buffet lunch was almost as good as the spectacular view, with chicken satay, fried rice and noodles, some sort of Chinese chicken and lots of fresh pineapple and watermelon. All in all, this was definitely worth the $25, though I knew it would soon be time to get out of Kuta and try to see some of the authentic culture that drew everyone to Bali in the first place.

(The first set of waterfalls. We walked around these, and our guide took the raft through, though this is pretty similar to the waterfall that we all went down at the end. I don't have a picture because I was cowering in fear...and my camera would get wet. A combo of the two.)

(The small, yet powerful waterfall at our lunch stop.)

(Our raft was the yellow one.)

(Safety first. You can never be too sure when a rock might fall out of the sky or a flood might pass through, so I opted to keep my helmet and life jacket on at all times. I'd advise that my loyal readers do the same.)

(Some of the scenery along the narrow, rocky river.)

(Chane and his peace-loving girlfriend. Unfortunately I don't have a picture from behind, but believe me when I say that Aussies aren't afraid to sport a mullet.)

(Taking pictures while the guide does all the work. So typical.)

(In reality, most of it wasn't that demanding of a river, so it was nice to relax and enjoying the stunning forests and terraced rice fields along the way.)

(One of the groups in front of us, right after the big waterfall and before our lunch stop.)

(A view of the river below from our amazing lunch buffet. When they said lunch was included, I thought it would be a cheap sandwich or a plate of rice, but the buffet was pretty amazing, and I had way more than my share of chicken satay, fried rice and fresh fruit.)

(The rice terraces as seen from our shaded hilltop buffet. I'm still impressed that the whole package was only $25, as I saw many other tours in the city for $50-70.)

(My last night in Kuta, watching the sun set over many soccer matches along the wide, flat beach at low tide.)

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