Bali road trip, Indonesia

Today we hired Congtit to chauffeur us around Bali for the day. For $55 we got a nine hour guided tour of central and eastern Bali. I had originally planned a drive through famous Kuta beach, but Congtit convinced us that we would not enjoy the choking traffic of that area. Instead he showed us some stunning scenery of upcountry Bali. We drove uphill past terraced rice paddies, and through countless villages, each specializing in one particular artwork. On village wood carved the Garuda, the national symbol of Indonesia which is Vishnu riding an eagle. Another village did stone tile work. Another did nothing but roofs for temples. Congtit is a stone and woodcarver himself, having learned it from his father and grandfather.

Soon we reached Gunung Kawi, a Hindu temple built in the 11th century consisting of temples carved into a high rock wall. We had to wear sarongs to enter the temple, so we "rented" them for 30 cents each. The entrance fee was eighty cents. It was quiet and peaceful.

Next we came to the water temple Tirta Empul. Built around a sacred spring, an inscription dates the spring all the way back to 926AD; and there are fine carvings and Garudas on the courtyard buildings. The temple and its two bathing spots have been used by the Balinese for over a thousand years for good health and prosperity. Regular purification ceremonies also take place here. Congtit said that it cleared your mind of bad thoughts. I splashed some on my face, and cleaned out all my bad thoughts, at least for a few minutes. Lots of kids and adults splashed about in the water.


We stopped in at a coffee plantation. You may have heard a rumor of a rare coffee that was collected from the droppings of a wild animal. It exists, and it is sold here as Kopi Luwak Coffee. A small jar of ground beans sells for $30! So what exactly is it? The Indonesian word “kopi” translates directly to coffee. The word Luwak refers to a small wild animal native to Indonesia and Vietnam that is actually a cousin of the mongoose.
The luwak or civet is particularly fond of perfectly ripe coffee cherries. Thanks to coffee farmers, the luwak has no troubles finding plenty of coffee.
Once eaten, the coffee cherries take the normal route through the animal’s digestive path. The amazing thing is while the fruit of the coffee is being digested, the bean is left largely unchanged, eventually passing in the animals droppings.
The droppings and their caffeine-laden content are collected by farmers. The coffee is then cleaned and the green, un-roasted bean shipped to roasters.
Seen below, your coffee is scraped off the bottom of this guy's cage. We bought some regular old Bali Coffee, but not Civet coffee or Kopi Luwak.

Next it was up, up, up to a great view of Ganung Batur while we had lunch in the town of Kintamani. Then back down through more beautiful villages till we reached the "Mother Temple of Bali". Over a thousand years old, Besakih Temple is perched on the slopes of Mount Agung, at a lofty 3,000 feet. Besakih is the biggest and holiest of all the Balinese temples. It is also a horrendous scam and a blight on the beauty of Bali. Really. We had a most unfortunate experience here. Despite paying the official entry fee of $1.37, at the foot of the temple road we were stopped by a semi-official looking mob of boys who told us we had to pay for $11 EACH for a personal guide or we could not go in the temple.

A word now on prices in Indonesia. It is incredibly cheap. An excellent dinner for two in a western style restaurant can be had for under $10. An hour-long massage by a trained therapist costs $6. A ticket for a 90 minute, professional Balinese dance performance is $8. A 24 oz bottle of Bintang is $2. So while $11 may seem like an insignificant amount, in Bali to demand this for a 20 minute tour by a boy who speaks broken English is completely outrageous. As such I declined, and continued walking up the hill to the temple. While people in Bali will try to sell you stuff everywhere you go, if you just smile and say "No thank you", they will leave you alone. This was not the case at the "Mother Temple". These hoodlums followed us via moped and tried to stop us again at each successive gate leading up to the main temple. They would not take no for an answer and were becoming intimidating about it. They would stand in front of us and tell us we could not go any further, despite the fact that we had tickets. I finally lost my cool, and had a verbal confrontation with the most sour faced punk in their little mafia. Of course, this is simply not done in Asia. One does not show anger or speak confrontationally. But I had boiled over. I had dealt just fine with having to pay 50 cents for parking, 20 cents to use a public bathroom, 30 cents to borrow a sarong required to enter a temple, these little fees you are made to pay purely because you are a foreigner and the people see you as a walking ATM. I don't mind paying for the necessary services I receive as a guest in another culture. But I cannot stand being lied to and extorted, even for eleven bucks. The glowering boy followed us every step towards the temple. We met another couple staying at Saren Indah who were also confused as to why they had to pay these kids. Finally we had enough. Before we even got to the temple, we turned back to the car. The normal happiness and tranquility of Bali had been ruined by this greedy little mob. We could not extract any joy from the Mother Temple. We took no pictures. Hopefully the Indonesian government will break up this scam someday soon. Until then, DO NOT GO TO BESAKIH TEMPLE. Tony Wheeler, please update Lonely Planet with this message. Your current edition mentions "aggressive touts", but it's a lot worse than that.

Congtit (above) felt bad about our bad experience, and wanted to end our trip on a good note. He drove us downhill to the beach, where I was able to jump in and swim in the Indian Ocean!

I hadn't even realized that Bali's southern coast was on the Indian Ocean until I checked the map right before we got to the beach. I would have really kicked myself if I had missed out on my first chance to swim in a new ocean.
Just on of many overloaded mopeds.
The family piggy.
The water temple back in Ubud.

Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

If you have dreamt of a magical, fairy-tale Asia, where people still wear colorful sarongs, where the sweet smell of incense wafts by on every corner, where intricate carvings of stone adorn every house, where the sounds of traditional gamelan music echo from every temple, you must come to Ubud, Bali.
We arrived at Ngurh Rai Denpasar Airport late in the evening. Customs was remarkably quick. We checked inside our bags before customs, so as not to befall the fate of Australian "Ganja Queen" Schappele Corby. At this airport five years ago, young miss Corby was caught with nine pounds of weed in her boogie board bag. She claims it was a set-up, but the Indonesian jury felt otherwise, and she will continue to sit in Denpasar prison, right down the road, for another fourteen years.
Outside, our driver from the Saren Indah hotel was waiting. It's always so nice to see a smiling face with your name printed on a sign, waiting for you in a foreign airport. I might start paying people to show up and meet me with a sign at every airport.
Congtit drove us past weaving motorbikes through the blackness of the unlit roads to Ubud. We arrived at the Saren Indah hotel to find an oasis of tranquility. Our smiling hostess greeted us with a cold fruity drink as we sat on ornate mahogany chairs by the lighted pool. Our spotlessly clean room was surrounded by rice paddies populated by an orchestra of croaking frogs by night, and a gaggle of honking ducks by day. No noise from the road or town could be heard except the distant clanging of gamelan at a dance performance.











We woke early to the ducks, and went for a run through Ubud. The Saren Indah borders the Sacred Monkey Forest on one side, and a calm road heading south with tall bamboo flags arching over, and the smoke of incense offerings filling the air. We said hello to a couple of monkeys before setting off on our run.

We were simultaneously awed by the numerous beautiful stone carvings, temples, incense offerings, and colorfully saronged Balinese; and dismayed by the hundreds of mopeds weaving between diesel-belching trucks on narrow winding roads with no shoulders and few sidewalks. We did not see another runner during our time in Ubud, and judging by the reactions we got, the Balinese don't see runners often either. Occasionally we were lucky enough to stumble upon a quiet road through a small village. There the many undernourished street dogs would bark at us threateningly, though never charging at us. Children would either stare, or practice their English shouting "Hello! Hello! Hello! Good Day!". Chickens ran out from under our feet, as we passed old farmers carrying a scythe in one hand and a bundle of rice in the other. Moped after moped whizzed by. Some carried entire families of four; Dad driving with junior at his feet, Mom riding side saddle on the backseat, holding the baby. Other carried goods to market, huge racks of live chickens, bundles of clothes, long shafts of bamboo. Mopeds outnumber cars twenty to one. The method of driving here is to overtake at any time you can reasonably expect not to be killed by oncoming traffic. It is perfectly acceptable for your car to straddle the centerline, forcing the oncoming moped to squeeze into a three-foot wide gap between your vehicle and a stone wall while traveling at 30mph. Miraculously we saw no accidents.

Our driver Congtit hand carved the below statue. It is a gift from him to his village, and sits in front of a huge banyan tree facing the village's main temple.

We had great, cheap meals every night in Ubud. We had much sushi and Bintang at this Japanese restaurant for less than twenty bucksWe purchased tickets to a Barong dance performance from these kids. It was a fabulous performance for only $8. The sound of the Gamelan combined with the dancers eerie hand and eye movements is hypnotic. We got front row seats. Unfortunately for the performers, a show that brought in 200 before the Bali Bombings, now brings in 25.


They even let tourists on stage for pictures after the show. This performance is by an all-female cast (most performances are by men), and is at the temple the abuts the soccer field in the center of Ubud. During our time in Indonesia we saw the Kecak-Fire Dance and the Ramayana Ballet at Prambanan, but this show was our favorite by far.

Several troops of kids parade through Ubud in costume playing drums and cymbals with a Barong monster. They ask for tips. Thirty cents is considered a good tip.

I videotaped this monkey trying to smash open a coconut. I had specifically avoided feeding the monkeys because they can indeed bite, and they can carry rabies. I wanted to watch them, but not touch them. If you click play on this video, you'll see that sometimes the monkeys are going to have their way with you, whether you have food or not.




The people of Ubud really do seem to be happy all day.

Bandar Seri Bagawan, Brunei

We left KK for Brunei at dusk. We were extremely disappointed to find the KKIA terminal undergoing a remodeling that had closed ALL the shops. Once past security, there was no food, water, or anything to be purchased. We had counted on getting dinner at the airport, and on buying a bottle of wine to bring into Brunei, which is a dry country. Right from the start I realized that Brunei Darusalam is a bit different from any other country I've ever been to. We flew Royal Brunei Air which was staffed by an elegantly head scarfed flight attendant. Before taking off the video screens played an Imam melodically intoning a blessing from the Quran for a safe trip. This was followed by an informational video on Brunei which stated a penalty of DEATH for drug traffickers. As alcohol sales are illegal in Brunei, none were offered on board.
The short flight passed over oil rigs and oil tankers plying the South China Sea. We swooped low over a massive golden mosque just before landing. Customs were a snap, and I was pleased to find the Avis rental agent waiting for me right outside. I was about to operate a right hand side steering wheel/left side drive vehicle for the first time. I had managed to avoid driving in Australia and in numerous previous trips to the UK. It turned out to be pretty easy after the first backwards clockwise roundabouts. I find that if you swerve all over the road, people tend to get out of your way. You just have to make it clear to anyone following you that you have no idea what you are doing, and they'll usually give you a wide berth.

I had a surprise for Lindso next. For once I had not booked the cheapest room in town. I had found a good deal on a room at the Empire Hotel, Brunei's purported "seven-star" resort. The hotel has been built at a cost of over one billion dollars by the Sultan of Brunei's brother. After a few wrong turns we found it, and it did not disappoint. The lobby featured a 100 foot high ceiling. In our room, even the toilet paper holder was gold plated. By far the nicest place we've ever stayed, and for only $138.We awoke to pouring rain. After it abated we ran along the golf course down to the beach, where I jumped in the South China Sea. As some thunder rolled in, we got away from the water and back to our palatial room to watch the downpour. If we were going to be trapped in a hotel room, this was the place to be!
As the sun broke through the clouds, we drove off to see Bandar Seri Bagawan, the capitol city of Brunei. Our Nissan Sunny hummed along the smooth highway past manicured trees and crisply painted new houses. We could tell that Brunei is doing quite well with it's oil wealth.
Brunei has been controlled by the same family for over 700 years. For much of the last three centuries it was a British protectorate, but the Sultan never relinquished power. Brunei almost joined with the Malay states when Malaysia was first created, but the sultan changed his mind at the eleventh hour and decided to go it alone with his oil riches. He made the right choice. As recently as 1997 he was the richest man in the world, with 55 billion dollars. The Daily Mirror (UK) reported on October 26, 2007 that the Sultan owned 531 Mercedes-Benzes, 367 Ferraris, 362 Bentleys, 185 BMWs, 177 Jaguars, 160 Porsches, 130 Rolls-Royces, and 20 Lamborghinis. His official residence is the Istana Nurul Iman, with 1,788 rooms, 257 bathrooms, and a floor area of 2,152,782 square feet, indisputably the world's largest palace. He has complete control over all government decisions. His picture is on every denomination of currency, and his portrait hangs in every shop and restaurant. This was our first trip to a country listed as "Not Free" by Freedom House, the acknowledged authority on political rights and civil liberties worldwide.
The Sultan does seem to have done well by his countrymen. Bruneians pay no income tax, have free health care and education. The Sultan even offers subsidized housing and cars. Beyond that, the country is just beautiful. It's rain forests are intact. Roads are smooth. The capitol is lined with flowers and banners. Buildings are freshly painted, and gleaming mosques abound. Smiling, friendly locals are driving new cars. Manual labor is completed by Bangladeshi guest workers

After exploring the small city on foot, with the requisite breaks inside air conditioned shopping malls to recover from the heat, we opted for a water taxi tour of the Kampung Ayer water village. We were barely within sight of the waterfront when our boatman spotted us and hailed us for a ride. For twenty Brunei Dollars ($14 USD) we got an hour tour in a long, narrow, outboard, wooden skiff. We chugged beneath a dense mangrove jungle, and zoomed under bridges connecting the stilt houses where 40,000 of BSB's population lives.

Brunei is not on any one's tourism radar. Perhaps it is the total lack of political freedom that scares people. We heard the current #1 hit song "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry with the word "Girl" blanked out, leaving the listener wonder what exactly she did kiss? Maybe it's the fact that you cannot get a beer anywhere in the country. Possibly people have it confused with Bahrain, and expect desert and camels. Regardless, Brunei is a must see for anyone passing though the island of Borneo. It has natural beauty, history (Magellan's fleet landed here in 1521), great architecture, luxury resorts, great food, and friendly people. Now if they'd just reconsider a local microbrewery...

Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia

After flying over the South China Sea high above many nameless Philippine islands, we landed on Borneo at Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia. The granite peaks of Mount Kinabalu loomed in the distance as our short taxi ride brought us into the city to the King Park Hotel. The King Park was a big step up from the ramshackle mustiness of the Swagman. Likewise, Malaysia itself looked to be a step up in wealth and infrastructure. Malaysia's per capita income is $6,540 per year, roughly four times as much as the Philippines. This rise in income however seems not to have allowed for KK to replace their old open-air roadside sewage drains. We walked to the waterfront amid a stench of exhaust fumes and human waste. Though the Lindso nearly collapsed from the smell, we managed to discover a vibrant bar scene at the waterfront. As Malaysia is a Muslim country, alcohol is heavily taxed. A can of a local beer like Anchor will set you back 10 ringgit ($3). This is a high price considering how cheap food is, with an entree at a restaurant also around 10 ringgit.

The next morning we awoke at dawn for a run past the Signal Hill lookout. In contrast to yesterday's run, we saw exactly one runner. (This would be the last runner we would see until Singapore!) Lindso's popularity continued as she got several honks, thumbs up's, and "Hello, Good Morning!" greetings from schoolkids. Borneo is very humid, and towards the end of our run we were as wet as if we had jumped in the ocean. In the morning light from Signal Hill, KK looked and smelled a lot better than he night before. After running we walked the streets of KK, sweltering even in the shade, and searching for air conditioned shopping malls to take refuge in. KK is a modern, busy, small city with no major sights to see. The city once known as Jesselton was completely demolished by Allied bombers targeting the Japanese occupiers in WWII. We found little of interest here and the heat forced us into Starbucks, the omnipresent global escape hatch for Americans.


We returned to KK after a night in Brunei. Back to the King Park Hotel. This time we spent our day on a white-water rafting trip. Actually scratch the white-water part. It was billed as "mild adventure", and that it was. It was fun to get out into the nature of Borneo though. We had a pleasant few hours floating along, seeing a monitor lizard, jumping in the river, skipping rocks.
We passed this beautiful mosque just outside KK. It was surrounded by it's own moat.

By now we had had quite enough of Kota Kinabalu. The place has no redeeming value really. It's a place you pass though on your way to climb Mt. Kinabalu, or to go on a Borneo jungle tour, or on a layover for another flight. I can't think of any reason to come here. On to Bali!