A Trip & A Bath Part Tres

Still on day three and the adventure continued. Erwin & Linda were a little concerned that their car was playing up a little. So they decided to head on to Lavina to find accommodation for the night, before it got too dark. Tami had other plans. On the other side of the lake, lay the 'oldest' village in Bali. We had a map of Bali on our travels and on it there was a little drawing of some human bones. It seemed somewhat out of place on such a beautiful and peaceful island. It was only when we got here that we actually learned that this little village, which has apparently been around since the 15th century, has a cemetery, separated from the village just a little boat ride away. The peculiar thing about this cemetery, is that they bury their dead above ground and this was enough to tickle Tami's curiosity. Personally, I didn't think I'd be too worried if I missed it, but as they say, when in Rome... So we drove around the lake, sometime along a road just wide enough to take the car and with scarily steep sections that looked like they led straight into the lake. Luckily for us, the brakes worked! When we arrived at the village, we were confronted by a bit of a crowd. All of them men and boys and not a single woman in sight. In total, probably about fifty, scattered around the one road that ran right against the lake. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to me, but Tami was the subject of a hundred eyes as soon as she stepped out of the car. Being a tall, attractive, blonde Californian, she might be used to that sort of attention but there was something a little eerie about this place. We got the distinct feeling that if they wanted, they could probably chuck us over into the lake and everyone would be non the wiser. They knew what we wanted, of course. Many tourists came to the village to be taken round to the cemetery so they sent out their negotiator and only speaker of English. Tami and I had discussed prices before we'd got there but such was the awkwardness of the situation, that we decided to tread a little carefully on the monetary front. In the end, he settled for 170'000 rupiahs. Just under £10. We thought that was pretty reasonable in the end, seeing as we'd heard that they charge some tourists anything up to £50-£60 a go! Tami's blonde locks probably aided that particular situation! The next thing we knew, he was busy with all the other guys, trying to summon a boat. The boat that arrived to take us was rickety, full of holes and powered by two little old men and their oars! It took about 10 minutes to get there. The burial site is around a little peak and is completely cut off from any roads or paths. This is so that no people or dogs can get to the site, to disturb the bones of the dead. The boat is the only way that you can get there. Again, there was quite an eerie feeling to this place too. At first, we could only see signs of a little temple located near the shore. As the boat rasped up against the beach side pebbles and came to a halt, our 'guide' jumped out and helped us both onto shore. The site itself is less than a minutes walk, away from the temple and behind some trees. The first thing you see when you walk up to it are three rows of skulls, neatly placed next to each other and all facing you. To the right is a massive tree called the Banyan tree and is said to be over 1100 years old. Apparently, this tree gives off a very special scent to mask the odor of the rotting corpses. Admittedly, I didn't smell much but it had been a while since the last body had been buried there. Four months to be exact and our guide said he knew him well. A well respected 'elder' of the village, lay to our left and was covered only by a sarong up to his head and a stack of bamboo's pyramidically place above him. Next to it, were six other bodies that had visibly decomposed, far more than the first. Tradition in the village says that they can only bury six above ground at any one time. When another dies, the oldest one there is removed to make room and his skull is placed under the Banyan tree with the others. This is not actually the Balinese way. The Balinese cremate their dead but this little village is very unlike the Balinese people and once again, tradition dictates they do this in this fashion. Every year, around Nyepi - the Balinese new year - a great ceremony takes place on the lake to commemorate the dead. Our guide said that we should attend it, as it was a truly magnificent occasion but being over a month away, we politely declined his invitation and informed him that, next time, maybe :-) We were taken back to the village and were subsequently greeted by the fifty-odd men again. It was all kinda spooky and I'm not all too sure that I liked it very much. In the end, Tami and pretended to be on our honeymoon, for practicalities sake... of course. When we finally managed to flee the joint, we started on our trip to Lavina, only to meet up with Erwin & Linda, not 30 minutes down the road with a busted radiator. It had taken a few hours to patch up but looked like it was ready, just as we rolled passed them. Apart from getting a little lost and having to drive in near zero visibility for a lot of the way, the ride to the hotel was otherwise event less and we parked in for a good nights rest.

A Trip & A Bath Part Deux

Day three and it was time to start our volcanically enticing hike. As expected, once arrisen, the morning was full of the now usual Baliniese tricks, to try to get us to give them money. Once again, luckily our Lonely Planet guide came to our rescue and we didn't fall victims to any of their predatorial traps. It was one Baliniese after another. "Hey, you need guide?", and that became the phrase of the day. "Hey! You need guide?", we'd utter to ourselves and even to the so-called guides themselves as we'd walked past them. Some would say that we were actually not allowed to go up there without one but we knew better. As we walked on up the volcano, the answers to them started to differ. From shear lies like: "No thanks, we'd never walk up that thing! We're just going to the base of it to have a look", to things like, "Oh, thanks but don't worry, we're professional 'guides' from Europe. We all took 'guide' courses!". We actually passed one guy on his way down. After his compulsory "Hey! You need guide?", we looked around him inquisitively saying "Why? Have you lost your group. I'm not sure I'd want you to be my guide. You probably lost them, shrugged your shoulders and then came back down the volcano for more!". You get a bit cheeky after a while here in Bali but truly, it's harmless. Everyone asks you the same questions and if you answer quickly, they rarely understand what you're saying anyway. I mean, don't get me wrong, I do love the Baliniese, but once again, priority number one is to see how much money they can get off you. Once they know what that number is going to be, if any, then you can actually have fun chats with them. Anyway, once we got far enough up the volcano, the 'guides' ceased to be and all that was left was our own metle. It was harder and warmer than we'd anticipated it to be. The cold winds didn't materialize and the path up, turned out to be a little trecherous. To start with it was quite simple, just following paths through the woods but once we got past the forrested section, it was all rocks and sharp bushes and branches. There wasn't much risk of falling but it did get a little hard on knees and ankles. It promped a few stops along the way which were rewarded with stunning views across the lake. The sort of views that make you think about how small and insignificant you are as well as how beautiful our planet is too. With the summit, came a welcome euphoria and self sense of satisfaction at what we'd done. We'd been checking the view to the lake behind us for most of the trek but when we got to the top, the crater was rather special. It took us around thirty to fourty minutes to walk around it and although some of the section had shear drops, either side of them, we still took great care and moved together around it. The views to all sides were incredible. Clearly visible, down away from the main villages and the lake, was the path that the last major lava flow had taken and where it had basically engolfed the village. Unfortunately, it had come at night, killing most of the people there. Inside the crater, you could clearly see different points at where the earth had just exploded, allowing the lava to errupt from it and pour down the side of the mountain. There were also still many points where hot steam was bellowing out from. You couldn't put yourself too close to some of them as they'd burn, but you could get close enough to sit in your own private sauna. About half way down the side of the volcano, there was a little restaurant/food place. We stopped in quickly to have a chat with the man who, every day, awoke at four to hike on up the volcano with supplies for the tourists once they arrived here. In well earned celebration, we cracked open four beers and toasted our victoriously accomplished mission. Once we'd moped them up, the chap at the restaurant actually pointed out the 'proper' way to come up the side of the volcano so that we could go back down easily. We all looked at each other a chuckled slightly. So, we'd taken a route that wasn't the right one! We still got up there anyway. I mean, that was kind of our point. How hard can it be to just keep going up. Anyway, the day turned out to be an amazing one and once we'd all got down, I think it took a little while to sink in but once it did, we all realized what an amazing thing we'd all done. I highly recommend it!