Monday, 30 January 2012, Kota Kinabalu

I am sitting at Starbucks in Kota Kinabalu airport waiting for Malaysia Air flight to Hong Kong where I will turn around on 2 Feb and fly to Vancouver.

Upon reflection I decided to abort SE Asia travel.  There are several reasons.  This years travels just seem to be not going as well as previous years nor as well as I had hoped.  Now I find that, even though I 'like' Sabah and Malaysia in general, it is either too hot or too rainy to spend much outside time.  Consequently most of my time seems to be inside a lodging place.  For example I took a van to Kinabalu National Park home of Mt. Kinabalu and a UNESCO world heritage site (of course).  When we got to the gate it was pouring rain and fog in all directions.  One could not see up the mountain nor down the valleys.  So I stayed on the van for another 10km to a town called Ranau where I stayed three nights and the weather did not change.  I then decided to return to KK and the weather did break for awhile.  It's a gorgeous trip through the jungle mountains but alas it was time to take a pass on the Park.

Other attractions on Sabah are the Urang Utan rehab area and Turtle Island both on the SE Coast on the opposite side of Sabah.  The few people I talked to were disappointed in these as they said, all you see at the rehab centre is a few Orangutans at feeding time and the fee for getting to Turtle Island is outrageously expensive as noted on some travel sites.

The way to see Sabah and Indonesian Borneo is to have lots of money and hire private guides and charter small aircraft.  Otherwise you are limited to seeing tourist packaged tribal villages on some tour group.  Which is ok, just not my thing.  Tourism is the 'new' tribal village way of life it seems.

I am not sure what I will do after I arrive in Vancouver .  I could go down to Mexico and try to get my dental implant work done; but I am inclined at the moment to wait until next fall.  Alternately I may go to Calgary and hang out at least throughout February and get back to Miramichi in March.

Thursday, 19 January 2012, Beaufort, Sabah, Malaysia

Thanx to all who have given me emotional support and encouragement to keep on blogging.

Some of my posts are over-weighted with logistics. But then, travel by definition is a logistical activity and in some countries such as Indonesia and India dealing with those logistics can take a disproportionate amount of ones time and energy. The lesson, at least for Asia, is to fly wherever possible. So for example at the last minute and after my stressful 'bus' travels I booked with Air Asia to fly from Yogyakarta to Jakarta and onward to Sabah. The flight from Yogy to Jakarta ( a distance of 437 km) costs $28.00Cdn.

As you can see, Adisutjipto Airport in Yogyakarta is a small airport but yet has frequent low cost flights.

In Jakarta the discount airlines have their own terminal, (Terminal 3) and it's from there that I flew Air Asia to Kota Kinabalu

Kota Kinabalu is the largest city in Sabah with a population of about 500,000 and although Sabah is a state of Malaysia, they can exert their own autonomy regarding immigration. A Canadian visiting Malaysia gets an entry stamp for 90 days and does not need a visa. Sabah is on the Island Borneo. Borneo is also the name sometimes given to Indonesia's province of Kilamantan. The Malaysian state of Sarawak and the Brunei Sultanate are also on Borneo.

Kota Kinabalu and Sabah in general has many offshore Islands on it's three coasts - South China Sea (opposite) on the west, Sulu Sea on the North East and Celebes Sea on the South East

A couple of boats anchored at Kota Kinabalu Harbour

Some like it hot.

Like everywhere KK has it's share of markets and there is always an abundance of fresh produce.

 At one of the Wisma's the sidewalk was lined with tailors and their sewing machines.  This is the first place in my travels that I have seen tailors concentrated in one place like this where there were at least 12 stands.  You would wonder if there would be enough demand for each of these men to make a living. In the past I have availed myself of tailor services in Yogyakarta, Chiang Mai and Mazatlan.  They are very handy and inexpensive for making repairs while on the road.

Yesterday (18th of January) I left KK by bus and traveled westward and a bit inland to Beaufort.

Beaufort is a small town and does not have the modernity of larger Malaysian centres even though it is only a couple of hours from KK. It serves the surrounding agricultural areas.  There are no western or world branded franchises here - not even a 7 /11 or a KFC.  There are several traditional markets and many, many eateries. 

Downtown Beaufort

Around the country coming toward Beaufort from Kota Kinabalu there are several Catholic churches, schools and missions including a couple here in Beaufort. However, one mosque dominates the town of Beaufort.

From the minaret at 4:30 AM the muezzin's call to prayer is broadcast through loudspeakers over the town.  It is of course in Arabic and is very rhythmic and hypnotic - all the better for mind control?

'A muezzin is the chosen person at a mosque who leads the call to prayer (adhan) The main purpose behind the multiple loud pronouncements of adhan in every mosque is to make available to everyone an easily intelligible summary of Islamic belief. It is intended to bring to the mind of every believer and non-believer the substance of Islamic beliefs, or its spiritual ideology. In modern times, loudspeakers  have been installed on minarets for this purpose.' (thanks Wikipedia)

I am liking it here as the geography is hillier and there is very little traffic and brething all that oxygen from the heavy vegetation is much better than sucking in hydrocarbon emission products. It's a good place for morning running.  By noon time though it is desperately hot, so I hide out in my AirCon hotel room. 

I am of course the current town oddity being the only pale face in sight and my hairy arms attract a lot of attention.

Out of Indonesia and on to Sabah, Malaysia

Monday 17th Jan 2012 - two months out of Canada

I was going to fade this blog to black but I got a couple of encouraging feedbacks so I will keep it going for the time being

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There is not much happening with me and I was questioning “What is the point of my travels?” Beyond the obvious escape from Canadian winters I conclude that the point is: “There is no point”. Its simply a way. Maybe I am ready to settle down. I met an English woman on a flight to Denpasar who had retired in Kuching, Sarawak. She had a son living and working in Denpasar and she traveled about on her own saying her husband was basically a couch potato not interested in doing anything. She seemed quite happy at having left Britain behind and lives off her pension (retired school teacher). I like Kuching but it seems just a tad too far from Canada for going back and forth one or two times each year.

I am currently in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia (Kota means City) after having flown from Yoyakarta to Kota Kinabalu via Jakarta . KK is a welcome break after all the Indonesian chaos.

I have not much to say and no photos about Yogyakarta aka Jogjakarta and commonly Jogja ( pronounced something like choke cha). Jogja is the most popular tourist destination on Java because of two nearby UNESCO World Heritage sites. One Borobudur, a reconstructed Buddha temple and the other Prambanan, a Hindu temple. I didn't go see either one of these. I just didn't seem to have the interest in more ruins/temples and making a 4:00 AM trip to see the sunrise. I simply don't have 'spiritual experiences” that others speak about having and after all I climbed Mt Ararat (Egypt) in the dark!

I am a bit skeptical about the whole idea of UNESCO branding. Despite the treaty being touted as a means of preserving world heritage; I see it (the UNESCO World Heritage designation) more as a tourist marketing tool which is suffering from overexposure. And why are natural geological formations such as canyons (as in Grand) and mountains (as in Kinabalu) even on their list?

On my run this morning I headed eastward on the coastal highway at 5:30AM against heavy inbound traffic and no shoulders on the road. I expected much less traffic and I don't like having to put so much energy into traffic awareness; especially as there are frequent roundabouts here and they are not always so easy to navigate on foot. I thought I might have been better going west past the airport as it looks from my map there are fewer suburbs in that direction but a Sabah tourism clerk said it would be just as bad in that direction.

There is a significant Chinese community here in KK and they are readying for the Chinese New Year next weekend on the 23^{rd .} It seems like it might be a good time to leave the city. In any event I want to get to a smaller town and maybe up in altitude a bit for less traffic and cooler temps as I am now into my 2012 training season.

From Kota Kinabalu, Mount Kinabalu and the offshore islands for diving are the primary tourist draws. Climbing Mt Kilabalu is a “must”. It is rated easy but a little strenuous at 4100 meters. I don't know if I can do the thin air as I have to aclimatize even in Mexico City at only 2200 meters. In the meantime I think I will head out in the other direction and then back to Kinabalu Park.

From Bali to Java

The short version of this post is that I left Pemuteran by bemo on 10th January to Gilimanuk and crossed by ferry from Bali to Java.  In Karangasem, Java (the town outside the port on Java I ran into some difficulty getting my planned bus ticket to Yogyakarta and ended up staying over night and traveling by train via Surabaya and onward to Yogyakarta.  The long version of this story is posted below  It may not be of much interest but I felt like posting just for the record

Today's tiring travel trials (Just for the record)

I was up early on 10^th January, checked out and just about stepped onto the roadway when I spotted in my peripheral vision, a red vehicle in motion and automatically flagged as it passed by. The driver saw me and stopped about 50 meters down the road. Yes he was going to Gilimanuk to the ferry, and I could go for 100000 Rp. I expressed shock and the price and it was immediately reduced to 50000 and even that would be considered 'tourist price'. I would bet these drivers get together at the end of the day and swap stories about how much they could get from crazy tourists. However I was more than happy to pay for the 30 km ride and to have successfully flagged my red Isuzu Bemo.

I don't have a picture but these bemos are like mini cargo vans of a vintage of many years back and are pretty well beat up. The one I was in had no paneling on doors or elsewhere and the door handles didn't work. There was a makeshift wooden shifting lever and generally the vehicle had been well used if not abused. The capacity of these vans are expanded way beyond design by adding wooden benches and rearranging seats. When I boarded there was one other female passenger and the back end was jam packed with carton of something. Along the way more passengers ( mostly workers headed for field work it seemed to me) were picked up until there were 10 adults and two babies plus cargo and driver. The side door remains open for the duration of the journey and once all the seats are taken passengers stand hunched over in any space available.

By the time we reach Gimanaluk I am the only passenger and the driver drops me at a “bus station” near the ferry terminal. It appeared to be one of those mini van stations and not a station for full size, long distance buses. A man comes to me and says he has a motorcycle and can take me to the bus company office where I can buy a ticket on an express bus that would take 10 hours to Yogyakarta. Of course I didn't trust the guy, especially when he said there where no buses on the Java side.

I walked away from him and crossed the street, bought a drink and asked the lady where to buy a ticket and she pointed me to a man on the gate going to the ferry. I am talking to him about where I wanted to go and he told me my options (including getting a bus on the Java side). He suggests that I might want to take the train. While he is explaining things to me a pickup truck comes to the gate with driver and passenger and the driver pays .Then the ticket guy talks to them in Indonesian, turns to me and says I can catch a ride to the bus station with them. So I go to pay for my ferry ticket and he waves me off. Apparently whatever the truck driver paid covered all passengers in his vehicle.

On the crossing the driver started talking money, but apparently knew no more English. I assured him I would give him some money after we got to the bus station I had already decided I would give him something. The question was how much? And of course there was flashing thought that once off the ferry and sandwiched between two guys about whom I knew nothing, I could be driven to a secluded spot, have my throat slit and they would take off with all my possessions. But I thought I was reasonably safe because it had been the ferry ticket man that set it up and the driver seemed Ok.

He was a bit lost in trying to find the bus station but after asking a couple of times finally arrived at another Indonesian bus station.

Well this time it did look like a long distance station as there were larger buses about. As I enter the compound a guy approaches and says he is security and offers to help. I ignore him and walk around the terminal ending up at a place that looked like an ticket agent 'office'. Basically a dirty hole in the was with a surly looking man and a desk with a banner showing a bus line advertisement. He and another man who appeared spoke no English but it seems maybe I am at the right place for a ticket. Just as I felt we had successfully communicated, my 'security' greeter appears and repeats that he is there to help me. After some discussion it seemed the options were basically a 14 hour air con bus today at 2:20 or a 10 hour express bus tomorrow morning. I couldn't really face 14 hours but after being told there were no hotels close by and with reassurance that the 14 hour bus made two stops, had air conditioning and reclining seats, I decided I had to go for it. This bus was scheduled to depart some four hours later.

I killed time by finding an internet, having some snacks and drying some damp clothes I had packed.

At about 2:20 a bus arrives, my greeter comes to get me and sells me a ticket for 15000 (he had said that tomorrow's price will be 275000 and so much for the security gig! He was obviously making a commission. But what I couldn't understand on reflection is why the other two men seemed to accede to this guy. Maybe it was because he spoke better English.) Anyway I get on the bus look around and it doesn't seem like any bus described earlier. I look at the ticket and it has has a list of about 20 place names indicating more than the promised 'two stops' – I am thinking 'milk run' . I am stowing my things, sit on an uncomfortable seat but cannot find any recliner. I look around the bus more carefully and I realize I am being had. I retrieve my bags and get off the bus – my greeter comes over. I say it's not the bus he described earlier and there is no way I am traveling 14 hours without a reclining seat (and no toilet). He doesn't argue and has to get my refund from the driver who doesn't seem too happy about these goings on. My greeter then tells me 'no problem' a bus with reclining seats will be here in one hour. I tell him I will think about it and I walk away not sure what to do next.

I walk back to the internet I had used thinking I would try to sort things out from there. Before going on line I start talking to three people ( maybe family) and after some time they point the direction to the train station. I had decided to check it out and if that didn't work I would come back to the bus terminal. The older man of the three called a motorcycle driver over and asked how much he would charge to take me to the station. Just then a bemo passes and I flag it down and ask my 'helper' to find out if he would go to the station. In the end I took the bemo and eventually arrive at the station which is quite removed from any other commercial type activity. The ticket wicket is closed. I could however see from the published schedule that there was a train to Surabaya that evening and another in the morning.

I am getting quite tired by now and ask a shop owner at the station if there was a hotel close by. The answer was in the negative. I head back over to the terminal and see a man exit with a ticket in hand. At the ticket counter two men are explaining bisinis ( second class) and executif (first class) prices and the departure time. They call another person over who they seem to know. He speaks very good English and clarifies everything. He says he's a tour guide (yeah, right I am thinking) He pulls out a testimonial letter from some Canadians that had a couple of Canadian flag stickers and wanted to know if I had any. Then he explained he had been guiding for two Italians. His credibility was increasing and he suggested the morning train would be better and I agreed provided I could find a hotel. He said he knew of one close by and near where he lived and offered to take me there on his motobike.

I gave him some money for his help (he didn't ask for any) and he offered to pick me up in the morning and take me to the train, which he did. I gave him some more money and he said “are you sure?' I was very thankful for all his help. In the end I think he was a legitimate independent, self styled tour guide – but who knows? Maybe he was just a good confidence man.

So after a night's sleep I settle in to my bisinis class seat for an on time departure at 8:17 with a schedule to arrive at Surabaya at 2:57. I need to buy a ticket and change to a different train in Surabaya for the onward trip to Yoyakarta. There is a train that leaves at 3:00 PM but I figure that three minutes will not be enough time to buy a ticket and get to the next train so I had expected to have to find a hotel in Surabaya and travel the next day

And here is the train station in Karangasem, Java, Indonesia and the arriving train

Bisinis (business or second class) car with a coffee (Kopi) that definitely wasn't Starbucks.  Which reminds me:  There was a good cafe in Pemuteran, Bali where you could buy one cup of special Indonesian coffee for 200,000 Rp (about $21. Cdn)

Needless to say, I didn't try it!

As it turned out, exiting the train in Surabaya one actually passes through a train on the adjacent track. As I am doing so a trainman asks where I am going. When I tell him he points to the train I just walked through and tells me it is going to Yogyakarta. I thank him and say I am going tomorrow. I exit and go to the ticket counter to buy my ticket for the following day. The ticket seller gives me prices and times and says I can still make the 3:00 PM. I make a snap decision and buy an executif ticket – she says “hurry to track 6” I rush back into the station, show my ticket to a trainman who points me to the last car. I have my foot on the top step of the entry as the train begins to roll away.

What a difference executif makes versus bisinis – reclining seats and air conditioning and quite comfortable as I make my way to Yogyakarta.

Westward on North coast, Bali

On or about 8^th of January I headed westward from Lovina on the north shore by hired motorbike to Pemuteran. Pemuteran stretches along the highway for about three kilometres lined on both sides with Homestays (for some reason all accommodation is called a homestay rather than hotel or guesthouse), dive shops and small farm lots with one or two cows or pigs and chickens. It is really a village dedicated to tourist diving mixed with traditional Balinese subsistance farming. There is no commercial infrastructure, not even ATMs, service stations or convenience stores.  Most homestays have restaurants and there are local eating places called warangs.  Prices at the homestays (for tourists) tends to be higher than many other places on Bali.

My homestay, Juawa had very nice building structures and gardens, a big pool, and good restaurant and internet that didn't work and no Wi Fi ; BUT...It was very uncomfortable sitting in the restaurant or outside my room because of the odors from the above mentioned farm animal enclosures and the commensurate presence of house/barn flies. Curiously (to me) the room had no chairs or tables and no mirror in the bathroom – all of which I find a bit strange for an establishment catering to foreign tourists and charging over twice (even with discount which I wasn't to tell other guests about !)what I paid in Lovina.

In front of my homestay unit and next door to a cow pen on the left.  Too many flies to sit out on my porch.

 Juawa did have a nice pool and internet in shelter at far end which didn't work during my stay and no Wi Fi - thus this blog is posted after leaving 

The beach here in Pemuteran was actually nicer than at Lovina and stretches all along the coast.  The bay shelters from the storms - we had very high winds two nights in a row.  Maybe a monsoon off shore?

The Bay

On a laneway between the highway and the beach

A recently departed

        

and 

               

                    The last homestay

At Pemuteran we are leaving the Balinese Hinduism behind and getting into predominately Muslim territory

There are trails and paths leading from the highway back toward the mountains that form the backdrop to Pemuteran.  Below are some photos from my wonderings on some of these paths.

 I had my camera out taking a pic of a farm house when a group of kids kicking around a soccer ball on the path saw me and came running.  Of course when they got close too have their picture taken they broke into typical kid behavior.  One of the boys spoke English and asked where I was going. I think they and the farmers I met along the way, probably don't see too many old white men with hairy arms in their neighbourhood very often

And the cows were also wondering
'who is that guy ? "


I wanted to get a picture of the cultivating implement, which was made of wood, but by the time I got my camera out the farmer had reached the end of this row and didn't come back.

Cultivating Corn

Farm House

I stayed two nights at Juawa but had to move on to ensure being in Jakarta on 14^th of January for my flight to Sabah, Malaysia. I was fretting getting from Pemuteran to Gilimanuk for the ferry from Bali to Java and had to allow for unanticipated delays in getting to Yogyakarta.

 There is no scheduled bus service and there was not the obvious abundance of motorbike drivers offering transport as had been the case heretofore in Bali. The only option (short of a car hire) was to flag down a Bemo ( pronounced 'beemow' by some or 'baymow' by others)  and hope for the best. My homestay hostess wasn't too helpful in how or where to do that. I talked to a woman at a nearby “store” where I had bought drinks and she told me to look for an Isuzu that was red, stand by the road and flag it down.  At first I didn't understand what she was saying and then it dawned on me she was saying "Isuzu" , the vehicle.

Over the Mountains to the North Coast

On the way to the bus station I thought I was in Guatemala, but it was Bali and the garbage ran down to this river below

 This is the ticket booth where I bought the wrong ticket to Surabaya rather than Singajara

These vans are at the bus terminal where on 3 January 2012 I got a van to Singajara.

I get in the van and wait until the van fills up to over capacity which takes maybe one half hour. We take about to hours to traverse the winding mountain road to the north coast passing by some quite spectacular lush, jungle forests. We arrive at Singajara earlier than I thought at a terminal outside of town. My first task is to sit down to a ABC kopi (balinese coffee) and a bun since I didn't eat breakfast as a safety precaution against travel sickness.

I pulled out my netbook and powered up to review my wikitravel article I had previously downloaded to orient myself The first task was to find out where I was exactly. There are three terminals at Singajara: Penarukan Terminal, Banyuasri Terminal and Sukasada Terminal. I confirmed with the three policemen (?) at the kopi stand that I was at Suasada. At first I thought I would go into Singajara to the Tourist office and then to Lovina. The men told me there were two ways to Lovina. One I could go to Banyuarsa Terminal and get a bemo from there. Or, I could hire a bemo from where I was for 50000Rp and go direct. It would be less if there were more passengers but I didn't exactly see lots of people waiting to go to Lavina. So I asked about a motorcycle as an alternative. A driver appeared and for 25000 Rp would take me to Hotel Angsoka.

It turns out the hotel is actually in a place called Kalibukbuk west of Singajara. Lovina it appears is a general name for the coastal area. 

 

I had chosen Angsoka from the Wikitravel budget list because they had 44 rooms and I thought there would be no problem arriving without a reservation.

There was no problem with a room and I took one called ' the barn'. The barn is a single in a loft with the toilet and shower in a separate structure at ground level. All the other rooms are bungalow type. The Angsoka has in addition to bungalows, a pool, restaurant and spa and is about 100 metres from the sea shore. All these amenities come at a cost of course and my room rate is 80000Rp ($9.00 Cdn) and includes breakfast and Wi Fi!

    






Some of the Angsoka grounds and the pool

This area is quiet and pretty laid back. The town is basically one main street, with a few side streets, between the mountains and the Bali Sea. The beach is ho hum and the most popular activity is early morning outrigger boat trips for dolphin watching

Angsoka is about 100 metres from the beach where the Dolphin awaits.

North Coast or Bust

On 1 Jan 2012 I thought I purchased a ticket to Singaraja on the north coast for travel on 3 January .

Today (2 January) I had breakfast at Inna Bali. They had changed everything around from when I ate there last. They seemed to be offering only a buffet but I asked for menu and ordered what I had before. No problem except what I got was a bit different. And in the end the bill was only 50000Rp versus the menu price of 65000Rp. While at breakfast I used there WiFi to download information from Wikitravel on Singaraja and nearby beach town of Lovina, so that I could peruse places to stay back in my room.

While going over the info I found reference Surabaya. At first I thought it was another spelling of the place called Singaraja. But, on rereading I realized they were talking about connections to Surabaya from Singaraja. Bells went of in my head as I realized the ticket clerk had booked me to Surabaya. I couldn't find that on my Bali map so I pulled out my SE Asia map which shows all of |Indonesia and there was Surabaya over on Java ( The Island where Jakarta is located). I realized a mistake had been made on the ticket even though I had pointed to Singaraja on the map I had with me as the place I wanted to go.

The ticket clerk told me the trip was 10 hours which I thought was very long but thought the route must be going over mountains. I asked her if there was a mid point to break the trip in two parts but she didn't understand. Even when I showed here the map and pointed between Denpasar and Singaraja she still didn't understand. I think in addition to language difficulties between us she may not have been able to read maps. And for my part the sign over here booth said Surabaya and some other names and no Singaraja so I should have known

Today I scurried back to the terminal hoping to get a refund (the ticket had 25% penalty for cancelling)

I got to the ticket booth and tried to explain to several men (maybe bus drivers) what had happened. They said to go to the tourist police which was my plan anyway if I failed in getting a refund. The tourist police office was just outside the terminal , I explained my situation and a policeman accompanied me back to the booth and I got an immediate full refund, no questions asked. One of the men said 'mis-communication' and everyone smiled and chuckled and agreed, yes mis-communication. And I agree it was mis communication on both of our parts and in the end everyone, including me was happy.

The policeman then accompanied me across the terminal to where there were vans and pointed me to the one that goes to Singaraja. These vans have no scheduled departure and no advance ticket sales.

They depart when they are full or overfilled.

As a footnote: As we were sorting things out at the booth some English speaking guy was very irate and yelled at the woman (same who had served me) “..speak in fucking English...don't speak in [some dialect]..I can't buy a ticket unless you speak English....” And so it goes. The poor woman had very little understanding of English.

Sanur Area, Bali, Indonesia

Beach Parking at North end of Sanur

It was overcast and threatening rain most of the time I was at Sanur

The only monstrous hotel

Outriggers

Bow of outrigger

Modern Gym Equipment on the Beach

Sanur is a tourism intense area along Badung Strait on the south east coast of Bali (which is in the India Ocean) and is 7 km from central Denpasar. Sanur beach was the site of the Dutch invasion in 1906. 

In the rainy season beach weather is rather iffy.  Early in the morning I walked one way and in mid morning as it started to rain caught a Bemo back Denpasar. 

There are many upscale resorts here but they are fairly unobtrusive as they are well set back from the beach and all (except one highrise) are low profile. By mid morning Dec 31 there were very few tourists in sight. So either bookings are down or people were still inside. The exception seemed to be the far northern, poorer end of the beach which looked to be frequented by 'local' families. The beach itself is fairly expansive and a fair amount of garbage as it appears the sand is not raked or machine cleaned. Some hotels do rake areas immediately in front of them.

All in all not a bad beach and good coffee shops. But in my opinion this beach and, any other I have seen can't hold a candle to Zipolite, Oaxaca, Mexico.

I am composing this post 1 Jan 2012 when it is very quiet throughout Denpasar. It must be their quietest day of the year. I purchased a bus ticket today for travel on Tuesday to the north coast.

By the way day temps without the rain have been running 37 degrees. Very high humidex in mornings and rain in the afternoon

Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

Ubud - “Located about 25 kilometres from Denpasar the village is impressed for either domestic or foreign painters. Ubud is noted as a centre of painters and carvers from classical days up to the modern ones” Quoted from the official “Discover fo Denpasar”, Denpasar Government Office.

The Tourist office said it was a two stage trip. Take bus from Kereng Station to Batubulan Station and then take a Bemo to Ubud. First I had to find the bus station. I went to where it was shown on the map but I didn't see any buses or any building that looked like a bus station. I asked several people but nobody knew anything about a bus station. Finally two young girls said they didn't know either, but one asked another local person in their local language. She told me it was straight ahead and around corner. About 50 meters away just past the yellow building. I went around the corner and didn't see any buses or any building that looked like a bus station. I was talking to a man who spoke some English and two two girls I had talked to earlier had followed me and came and stood beside me. Together we established this was the “bus station” There were three stalls with signs over them representing destinations. Only one had a “bus”; which was in fact a small van and it was parked under sign that indicated Batubulan. Only problem was as the man said “there is no bus to Batubulon” and offered to take me on his motorcycle. So we agreed on round trip price of 100,000 Rp and the girls said it was a fair price and Hussein, the driver, arranged to pick me up the next day at 10 AM.

We depart amongst the jammed streets sucking up motorcycle and diesel exhaust fumes and I am expecting to get into open country. It never happened. After the congested Denpasar, we pass a section where the highway is lined with shop/factories displaying monuments and statues mostly of the Hindu type, but also some Buddhist material. After this section the highway becomes lined with paint shops displaying their wares. I got the impression the painting were factory production but I am not sure. Some had signs saying “painting to order” and some had signs indicating a persons name as painter. Just before Ubud proper we pass a few rice paddies and then enter tourist city.

Ubud seems to exist solely for tourism. There are many pale faces on the streets which are lined with gift, souvenir, craft and clothing and textile shops galore. As well as Soul Soap stores, Crystal shops, spa and yoga centers. Ubud does have a lot of good cafes and I had Hussein stop at one for a long black and a muffin. I have not found a coffee shop in Denpasar city which seemed strange to me because I thought Indonesians drank a lot of coffee. I must have been getting mixed up with Vietnam. (On the way from the airport I did espy Starbucks.)

Back to Ubud. I went to the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary which is a small monkey sanctuary in a jungle vale. It is home to some 537 Balinese Macaques.

Balinese Macaques

 

 

 

 

In the Monkey forest - rotation of image not possible after upload and upload takes too long to do over again

There are many homestays in Ubud and my thinking behind the day trip was that I would check out the possibility for staying a few days as the climate is cooler than Denpansar, there is a bit less traffic and generally a better running environment. I had preselected some homestay names and we checked one out and it was booked until Jan 10. It would have been quite an effort to locate other reasonably priced accommodation so I directed my driver back to Denpasar and decided I would stay put until after the new year. The dense tourism at Ubud didn't attract me as a tourist myself but it did have an attraction in it's climate and possible running area and its coffee shops.

By the time I got back my legs were sore from straddling a motorcycle for two hours and watching that I didn't scrape my knees on vehicles travelling beside us.