A Trip & A Bath

There were four of us. Erwin, Linda, Tami and myself. I'd checked the surf and the prediction was bleak so we all decided that this would be a good opportunity do some cultural sightseeing around Bali. We hired two cars and headed off with a map, an iPod and heads full of tales of volcanoes, hot springs and good snorkeling spots. The drive was slow to start with, plowing through snail-speed traffic but once we were out of the cities in the south, we were able to do some serious cruising. The countryside is absolutely stunning. Lush, green rice fields parted on different levels, cut into the hills and massive palm trees are the norm on this beautiful island. The flatter regions are truly stunning and the mountains equally so. It's a jungle-style atmosphere for sure and although I kept thinking of American Vietnam movies, you still cannot help but be besotted by the scenery. That was a bit weird actually. I felt like all that was missing was an M-16 in my hands. Luckily I had a camera to qualm my shooting needs. Our first stop was Ahmed. A nice little resort in the North-East of the island. We arrived at dusk and just about managed to find a place to stay. Two little bungalows right on the sea front for only US$9 a night. Mind you, I might as well have slept in the car as I can barely remember waking up in the morning. That night, we went to a little restaurant up the road. The staff there were very friendly and very young and complained about the usual "oldies" that always come here. Apparently, we were a breath of fresh air to them. As soon as the last customers were out, they broke out the guitars and cracked open the Arack! Arack is pretty much firewater. Like the Portuguese have their bagaco, the Russians their Vodka and the Koreans their Soju. Only this stuff is, well, a little stronger. And in the morning, we felt it! When we all woke up (still rather out of it), we decided to go for a swim in the ocean. Little did we know, however, that this side of the island is littered with razor-sharp volcanic rock, just under sea level. The swim was fine, but our feet suffered some bloody cuts. Tami had some industrial style paracetamols so I necked three of them, munched breakfast and then we started back on our trip. Day two was mostly about driving and stopping to check out the magnificent views. The weather was surprisingly clear as we followed the coast line and then weaved our way up through the windy roads of the side of the volcano. On our way, we stopped off at a magnificent waterfall. We trekked through the jungle as the heavens opened. One of the locals ended up following us to show us the right way. He asked us if we needed umbrellas and started tearing down some of the big leaves from the palm trees to give us a bit of well needed protection. What a genius! When we got to the waterfall, I only just realized that I'd actually never been to one before. I mean, not a proper one like this one anyway. The water cascaded down in bucket loads from around 30 or 40 metres above us. He then encouraged us to get under it, stating that it was actually a very good massage. We received, what I considered to be more of a beating then anything else, but it was a fun one to say the least! I absolutely loved it! Everything was turning out rather perfectly. The rain stopped just in time to allow us to amble back to the car and when we got there, it pelted it down again. The drive on from here was a little trecherous but we took it easy until we arrived at our next stop for the night. Mount Batur's volcano sits next to a magnificent lake and had last erupted in 2000. It was a small one compared to that of 1976 which killed many people and pretty much wiped out a whole village but you could still feel it's activity in the air. The people here were unafraid of it. Instead, they reveled in money that the tourists brought in to pay for guides that "help" them up to the crater. There are many cunning ploys that the Balinese use to get money off the tourists and this is one of their most profitable ones, sometimes charging as much as US$80 for a group of four to be taken up there. Personally, we thanked our Lonely Planet Guide and our experience for not falling for this one. The four of us had grown wise to some of their scams and even though we angered a few of them, we felt it was our god given right not to have to pay for it. We found a nice place to stay and went to a nearby restaurant to try the local delicacy. The fish from the lake was probably one of the boniest I'd ever had to sift through, but it wasn't all too bad in the taste department. Mind you, that could have been because of the massive amount of chilies and garlic that they scattered over it! Not that I was complaining. Me, chilies and garlic go way back. We've had some great times and any time they wanna have some more, they just have to present themselves on a plate in front of me! After the meal, we headed back to the room for some late night poker and then readied ourselves for the morning.

Cock-a-fight 'll doo

The Balinese people seem to live for their ceremonies. They absolutely love them. During these ceremonies the women dance and the men bet money on cock fights. But it's not some bizarre tribal thing or anything. They don't hop around naked, stamping on the floor and hoot-hooting at the tops of their voices. The ceremonies are for the gods. The women dress up in beautiful dresses and the men wear sarongs and udongs round their heads. It's a village event and everyone is invited... well, everyone apart from the tourists. Some of the ceremonies are OK but the important ones are usually packed and it's hard to get into the temples. I was lucky enough to assist one of them as I've sort of befriended the family that run the hostel I'm staying with. Although the men don't seem all too pleased about my eventual presence, they're quick to fold when I tell them that Mama Ketut has invited me. The ladies put an amazingly gentle and suave dance on and the rough-and-ready men go round the back of the temples and launch roosters into to-the-death fights. I went down to one of these to check it out and it's a little ghastly. They strap razor sharp knives onto one of each of the cocks' feet, make their bets and then ready them off. Each fight takes about five minutes and by the end of it, they put the winner to one side and let him rest for a few months. The loser is put down and eaten... if he's not already dead. It's a strange feeling to witness something like this. It can get quite bloody and the guys really get into it. I try to keep as open a mind as possible though. After all, we all do it in some form or fashion. In England there are underground dog fights, fox hunting and we shoot birds. It doesn't necessarily mean I agree with any of them. I just feel that I shouldn't think any less of the people here for doing something we don't. The Portuguese and Spanish have bull fights and I know that many people disagree with that too. Heck, the Americans bomb and kill people, but we still seem to let it go on. So I don't really see this as that harmful when you put it all into perspective. I know many of the tourist here despise what they do, but I don't really. When you witness one of these ceremonies, you can see that there is an awful amount of good that comes out of them. The community gathers together and everyone has fun. They praise their gods, offer them gifts, dance and chant through massive and extreemly loud megaphones so that the entire village can hear it! At the end of it all, everyone is happy... and surely that's what life is all about.

Bali, Oh Bali

Ok. I'm gonna start this blog by quickly stating that the views expressed here, are by someone who probably hasn't done enough investigation to warrant writing them. Still, all I'm doing is giving my immediate informed opinion on a nation, which, once again is rich, coming from someone that has only been here for a month. Just quickly, overall, I'm loving this place and I hope that nobody (especially the Balinese People) gets me wrong. From the wonderful climate to the massive snails on the road. The variety of animals, smiling people and the besotting landscape. This place is truly wonderful. Sometimes it can be a bit strange though. Firstly, I've quickly learned that the Balinese people are Hindu and don't like being associated with any of the other Muslim islands in Indonesia. I've yet to visit these islands but there certainly seems to be a little chip on their shoulders about something. Every time I suggest that I might head off soon and travel to either Java, Sumatra or even neighbouring Lombok or Sumbawa, my inquisitive gaze is immediately returned on by another of disapproval. "Why you want to go there?!"... is normally the first response, which is accompanied by a severe frown. "Curiosity?", is the best answer I can give them, and I in turn accompany that with a shrug. Now, in Bali there seem to be two types of people. The nice and the not-so-nice ones. All of them greet you with the same broad smiles, but soon enough you can spot one from the other. Some don't seem to care very much if you're here or not and are generally kind folk. The others see you as dollar signs. And who can blame them? The average wage here is probably around 800'000 rupiah a month. That's £44, 58 Euros or around AUS$90 a month! Tourists come here and spend that in a night. Some hotels can cost up to 3 million rupiah a night! When we think thats £164 to live in the sort of luxury you can only dream of, with outdoor spa's and top of the range Hollywood-style accommodation, thats not so bad. So when you get a little old lady, trying to sell you a bracelet for 5'000 Rupiah and you say no, you can pretty much empathize with her disgruntlement. After all, all she's asking you for is 20 pence. But of course you can't always say yes to everyone and everything. In fact, you very quickly realize that you have to say no all the time. And then it becomes a matter of principle and to pile it on a little more, when you say no and they start uttering Balinese obscenities at you, you definitely want to start standing your ground. So it becomes a difficult ball to juggle. The thing that's getting me right now, however, is the level of corruption. Here, everything is done on the sly. When it comes down to official paperwork, you can forget about anything going smoothly unless you're willing to cough up a little bit of cash. And this happens with both the nice and not-so-nice people. For example, the maximum time they give for tourists to stay in the country is 30 days. When I was in Sydney, they weren't very clear about this and I bought a ticket to leave here in two months. So now I was going to have to leave the country and then come back in again... or so I thought! I emailed the British consulate and they quickly put me in touch with their representative here in Bali. I called the man and explained to him my situation. I could visualize his demeanor on the other side of phone as that of one that was looking over his shoulders to check if someone was listening in on what he was about to say. "Well..." he said, "You can't actually get an extension as such... but I can help you". And here's where it all starts. You see, to leave the country and come back in, it costs you around 3 million Rupiah. So the immigration office start your stay by placing a sticker in your passport as opposed to stamping it. Then, if you want to stay some more time, they meet you half way and for 1.5 million, they take the old entrance sticker out of your passport and put a new one back in again. This one will state that you came into the country a month after the time you got here. If my passport was to be used, to ever trace my traveling steps through time, that one month would have mysteriously disappeared. For all accounts... I wasn't on this planet between January 4th and February the 3rd. And what gets me is that this contact was given to me by the British Consulate themselves. A 30 day visa cost me US$25 upon entry. That's 230'000 Indonesia Rupiah. To take the sticker out and put a new one in costs 1.5 million. Where does the 1.3 million go? That's US$140 into somebody's pocket. And so everyone is in on it. Even the people in my hostel who are absolutely lovely. Everybody "has a friend" in immigration "who can help you" and then it's time for you to do the haggling. And haggling really is a part of this island. I can't speak for the rest of Indonesia but in Bali, that's the way it goes. I mean, if you're 10 years old, you can ride a motorcycle here, no problem. Children come out of school with their uniforms and big square ruck-sacs on their backs and ride around with no helmets on like they own the place. Of course, for them, there is no problem. If a tourist, however, gets stopped by a police officer, the rule is: You pay! No if's, no but's. That's the way it goes. Someone told me that a friend of his got stopped so he pulled over, took his helmet off to speak to the officer and the cop fined him for not having his helmet on. They'll get you for anything. They makes out like you're in big, big trouble but then you shrug your shoulders, plead your ignorance (or innocence, whichever seems most suited to the situation) and ask the officer what can be done without having to go to the police station. At this point, the answer is simple. Just open you're wallet and give the cop 50'000 Rupiah. If you're cheeky enough, you can probably get away with 20'000. You give him the money and he gives you directions down a one way street the wrong way so that you can get home faster. Everything has it's price here and if you're willing, that price can be very low indeed. The Balinese will try everything and will come down to practically nothing to get you're business. You just have to accept that there's one price for the locals and one price for the tourists. I went to put petrol in my bike and the guy put 14'300 IDP in. I gave him a 20'000 note and he gave me 5'000 change. I pushed my bike away and as I did, I saw that the next guy didn't get the pump reset. He pushed it up to 20'000, giving him 5'700 and only charged him 5'000. So I paid 700 of one of the locals petrol. I mean, it's only 4p, so why should I get pissed off about it? That they're playing me for a fool maybe? So I turned round to the guy after he'd filled up and said "Hey, cheap Bensin (petrol in Balinese), huh? Good price, good price". One of them smiled but the other wasn't very amused. I know I don't live here so I should probably just bow down a little and accept their rules. It's just a little irritating sometimes, that's all. So right now I just try to stay away from it all as much as possible. If you meet someone, you have to be just a little cautious about their intentions and about what they're trying to sell you. I'd like to think that even I have developed a slight sense for opportunism though. If they're willing to come down in price with a lot of what they have to give you, why not play their game? They actually seem to respect you more if you do so and you're more likely to forge friendships with the locals if you doubt their original offerings. Bizarre? Tell me about it!

Bashed Around By Bali Waves

It's been a hot and humid few weeks in Bali. The average temperature is around 30 degrees centigrade and the average sweated out by yours truly is probably around 30 buckets too. Mmmm, nice! Jaaaaazz! I'm still sick, which is great! I've got a lingering cough that just won't go away and even though I've cut down drastically on the cigarette intake, for some reason, I just can't seem to shake it off, breaking into spasmodic coughing splurts at least a few times a day... especially when out surfing. But all said and done, that's why I'm here. I've had a couple of killer days out there with some mammoth waves ridden. Yesterday was probably the biggest. I got caught out with an enormous set though. I was just hanging back a little too much and one of these waves just caught me out. I met two cool guys out here. An Australian called Jamie and Nate who's from Santa Cruz in California. As the set approached, and I knew I wasn't gonna make it, I just started shouting out that this was me pretty much done. Nate started laughing his head off at the prospect as he was just able to make it out to the left of it. I bit the bullet and took it on the head. The wave was so powerful it just took me for a bit of a tumble-dryer maneuver. After about 10 seconds, I was back up to the surface of the water, only to see the second wave of the set coming at me. It was almost like as if it was an avalanche, plowing towards me in slow motion or like one of those clips from a movie, when the bad guy is about to get engulfed by a massive swirl of fire in a big tunnel or something. The wave was miles away but I could just see this great mass of tumbling, chaotic water rushing towards me. With a shake of the head, I just turned towards the shore, grabbed my rails and closed my eyes, letting it just rumble up behind me and slam me around like a little rag doll. I don't think I've had this much fun in ages! When I got to shore, I waited for Jamie and Nate to come back in. By the time they did, I'd seen enough to persuade me to get back out there. I grabbed my board and my flippers and rushed back in. It took me about 10 minutes to get in through the channel and out past the break. Once I did, I paddled over to a right break that peaked up with a couple of little waves, probably measuring up to about two and a half metres in height. I hung round for a little while, just waiting for my ride. I caught one and the drop was nuts. I struggled to cut into it to do the bottom turn but just about managed to ride it out. The good thing was that the right led you straight into the channel, so all I had to do was turn and get back out there again. I waited for a little while longer and finally got the wave I'd been waiting for. Once again, the drop was insane. Traveling faster than a speeding bullet, I remembered that unfortunately, I'd left my superman cape back home. I couldn't cut into this one in time. I turned a little bit but lost a flipper with the shear speed of the thing. By time I'd noticed, I looked over my shoulder to the right, only to see a massive two metre barrel about to collapse on me. Thinking about it, maybe I could have tried to cut and duck into it, but I reckon I must have made a split decision which was somewhere along the lines of a) choose life and b) a rather painful death. I'm pretty sure I made the right decision as I'm writing this blog right now so... yeah :-)