The entire travelogue may be viewed at kenballinger.com (with pictures)
Bali is one of a series of islands that make up Indonesia, slightly northwest from Australia’s Northern Territory, and near enough to the equator to make it uncomfortably hot all the time. In area, Bali is about half the size of northeast Indiana with a population of nearly 5 million people. The population density is ten times that of our Indiana home area. The population of all of Indonesia is 260,000,000 and is expected to surpass the United States in the middle of this century to become the third most populous country in the world behind China and India. Indonesia is the world’s largest predominately Muslim country. Bali, a province of Indonesia, is 85% Hindu and 2.5% Christian. How this all came to be, I do not know.
Bali is beautiful restaurants, ancient holy temples, five-star hotels, unique bars, discotheques, clothing shops, furniture stores, rice paddies, scooters, open sewers, garbage, feral dogs, and hawkers. The unregulated commerce is endless. Wherever a space exists along a road there is a business enterprise, making an endless stream of storefronts. Storefronts are mostly separated by a common wall and stand one meter from the edge of the road, except where there is an open sewer, which is commonplace. Scooter traffic is endless, and scooters are parked haphazardly along every roadside. Add bicycles, schoolchildren in uniforms, pouring rain, plastic waste, and honking horns.
In the area surrounding our hotel there are uninspiring frontages that open into restaurants with opulent interiors and immaculately attired staff, not to mention cascading waterfalls, and Koi fish coursing through tiled canals. Outside, among the warungs and makeshift scooter fuel stations, men squat on the curb and smoke cigarettes one after another and sell gasoline by the liter in old Absolut Vodka bottles. Smoking here is a sport, especially among men. From the alleyways scooters stream with young people carrying them to their many jobs in the tourism industry.
Everybody in Bali owns a scooter and everyone is on the street all at once. Scooters and taxis and dirty hand-pulled food carts. Scooters and SUVs carrying tourists like us with a paid driver. Scooters carrying entire families. Tourists on scooters. Rules of the road seem nonexistent. Sidewalks, if they exist at all, seem an afterthought.
Donna wanted to stay part of the time in Ubud, an inland area considered the spiritual center of a spiritual destination. I said I would accompany her to Ubud as consolation for staying in the one hotel for the entire two weeks. Chalk up a victory for my side. Our first guided trip to Ubud was a full day of tourist attractions, ending in the city of Ubud and its never-ending market. We stopped at temples, batik shops, and the iconic Monkey Forest. Traffic along every route is heavy through small roads and tight spaces. Throngs of scooters speed through and around the larger vehicles where they collect near intersections slowing in unison like a swarm of bees to find a way through the morass of intersecting traffic.
The long-tailed macaques at the Monkey Forest are aggressive and take food directly from one’s bag or person. The huge sculptures and bridges of the park sport a green moss patina in the ever-present heat and high humidity. Signs warn not to look the monkeys directly in the eyes as they consider this a form of aggression. Absolutely, one should not try to touch the baby monkeys as their mothers are very defensive as well as aggressive. After reading the posted warning signs and schooling Donna at some length on the proper decorum around monkeys, one did jump on my back unexpectedly and I shrieked, I think Donna said like, “A seventh grade schoolgirl.” Just another brick in the wall of my masculine reputation.
Our hotel is great, but I am embarrassed to reveal it only merits four stars on Trip Advisor. It is a contemporary work of minimalist art. I know that because Donna tells me so. The restaurant and pool are outstanding. The design is chic. The theme of the hotel is sexual with a giant red, upside-down bunny in a sort of vertical missionary position, if such a thing exists, being the mascot. The room is supplied with oils, sprays, and other accouterments of romance. The price of the hotel is about what we would pay for Motel 6 back home. Their best beer is 30,000 Rupiah ($2 USD) in the very nice restaurant. This price allows me to drink lots of beer, since one does not want to touch the water. For 300,000 Rupiah ($20 USD) we were able to get full body couple’s massages at any of the nearby spas. Donna feted herself generously throughout our stay with manicures, pedicures, and reflexology treatments at ridiculously low prices.
Just down the street from our hotel is the entrance lane for one of the most famous bars on Bali, Potato Head Beach Club. A great deal of traffic enters here to a 300-yard walkway/road to the bar on the beachfront. The entire exterior of Potato Head is covered in window shutters of all sizes and colors. Very cool. Inside are multiple bars and eating areas in horseshoe fashion around a large open-air green space that borders an expansive lounging area with couches and beds. The beds and lounges are peopled by masses of magazine worthy young men and women in swim attire and holding exotic drinks. Donna punched my ribs many times when I stared too long. Fronting the beds is a huge glass-like swimming pool that opens directly on to the beach. It is visually stunning. Reservations are required in the lounging area. Did I mention that to get into Potato Head one must pass through a metal detector and walk past wand waving guards flanked by men prominently shouldering machine guns? At the beach end, machine gun toting, fatigue wearing guards prevent anyone from approaching the bar from the beach side.
Here’s The Thing: To be continued…
ken.ballinger@yahoo.com
———
Editor’s Note: This is one of a series of articles written by a group of retired and current teachers — LaNae Abnet, Ken Ballinger, Billy Kreigh, Kathy Schwartz, and Anna Spalding. Their intent is to spur discussions at the dinner table and elsewhere. You may also voice your thoughts and reactions via The News-Banner’s letters to editor.
