Indonesian                                      
     BALI          DIARY  2

               From Diary 1.
12/6. After a real cold shower and a couple of snakeskin-fruits, I leave the over-touristed southern peninsula; Kuta Selatan for now. I head a bit up the eastern coast of the main island.

I chose the short cut over the bay, and way out on the bridge, they want payment  - by member card only. Where every supermarket, gas station, hotel and companies have flagmen, helping you out on the road, this web of highways have no personal. Well, the guy behind me willingly pay for me.

Then I finally make it to Andaz Bali. As always, parking a car is a challenge, but the large supermarket have around ten spots. I buy shampoo and biscuits for god measurements.
Then I find my way to the beach, apparently to see the traditional fishing-boats. They are outside the perfect beach, kind of giant outrigger canoes. Besides from that, here is nothing which I find remotely interesting.

I follow the beach for a kilometre to get to the Pura Tanjung Sari temple. Besides from being closed, it is nothing special.

I try to find a typical Bali mask, but only three centimetres high. Like every thing else around here, it is made on the same factory – and six centimetres. They actually have huge amounts of real good woodcarvings and brass work. I stumble over some monkeys, giving me the finger. They are too big, but was an option for my Bali souvenir. I end up with a small mask, as she offers me 66% discount as the first customer. It now sits at a closet, somewhere on Bali

This is where the more wealthy tourists have their fancy hotels and restaurants. At ten, I have finished the sights of the day, and get an head-start of another.

Further along the coast, I find a way more charming tourist-trap in Sanur. A bit of window shopping and a coffee at Circle K. They have numerous shops around Bali, but no gas stations. Great coffee for a fifth of the average cafes, faster serving, outdoor seating and free Wi-Fi on top. I update diary.

I slowly drive up along the east coast, to see nature, beach, culture and crafts. On the way, I pass around a thousand stone carving shops, and their work it truly amazing. It it normal to have a quite impressive temple in your yard or garden.

Then I turn of the main road, and into the rice fields. They are all green, and the grains visible.

It is a black sand beach at Pura Erjeruk, and the waves are huge. Here are a bit of driftwood, some plastic and a few shells, the Abalone the most impressive, due to the colours. With the exception of the guy who change me for parking, I have it all to myself – not even the sun show up.
I head a bit back by foot, to enjoy the rice fields, and see a calf and it’s mother. Here are native trees and herbs, but also many foreign flowers.

I figure, the coast will be like that to both sides for many kilometres, and head inland. Before long, I spot a truck driver’s diner, offering a great view over the newly prickled rice and banana plants. I get a mount of rice and sample of their vegetarian courses: Real tasty and with Bali coffee, I only have to pay €3,25 – half a cup of coffee in a tourist area.

In Ketewel, I drive through a street allied with temples. Considering they only allow access to devote believers, I give a sufficient donation at the most impressive: Oura Payogan Agung and Pura Giri Jagatnatha, get dressed up with a head piece, sarong and orange belt, and get a guided tour throughout the entire but empty area.
The stone and wood carvings, the painting and the plants are fantastic. I probably fail to catch it with my camera, but I truly enjoyed it.

Then I reach the tourist-free town of Guwang, and I have to do a stroll. It is that tourist-free, I actually see a older woman, with traditional bare torso. Here are lots of temples, craftsmen, mechanics, wood carvers, pet shops, food shops – everything locals require. I find a clip, I’ve been looking for in an antlers shop. The tailor however, turns me request for tiny bags down. I try to make pictures across the street, when the sun is present, and the cars absent. In general, it is the other way around. I finish with a cup of coffee at a shop/café/snack-joint.

The next town is Sukawati, which is slightly bigger, but just as interesting. Another long stroll, and I actually buy a camera-bag, the size of a cigarette pack, for my over-night things and spare millions. The clouds are gathering, and when it starts to drizzle, I head on.

In the rather large and tourist infested, but still so nice town of Peliatan, I find my home for the next four nights; Leket house. It not only look like a temple, but one of the really nice ones, with loads of plants.
I ditch the shampoo, and head back out in town at dusk. I have to walk quite some, before I find a local restaurant, serving local courses. I’m not here for pizza, burgers nor lasagne. I order fried eggplant, and she ad-in fresh vegetables, fried tofu, fried rice cake and a really tasty sauce. I mark the spot, just in case.

Because of the river, which have cut itself real deep down, I have to walk back the same way: The bridges are surprisingly far apart. I do have all night, but without the possibility to make photos, I don’t enjoy the walking as much.
I find a Bhoma ring in brass, and despite the price, I buy it for my Bali souvenir, as the wooden masks are way too large. I have quite long chats with several shopkeepers, and they are real nice people, despite I don’t buy anything. At eight, it starts to rain gently, and I head home.

The temple-like compound I live in, is 60 metres from the street, and real quiet. The only sound is the tree frog; Polypedates leucomystax in the ponds, scattered around the area, and they are quite gentle. I have bought instant coffee, and enjoy a mug on a common terrace, all by myself. It drags out, as I’m heading for a cold shower.

Then I head home, making another mug on the way, and only now notice, I got a private porch with a pollster couch. I find one frog on my door, and hope it catch the few mosquitoes. Besides from the frogs, the only sound it the gentle rain on the giant leaves. Nice comfort for seven euro a night. It turns out the showers have warm water – at least in the evening, and I take advantage if it.
 Day's highlights     All the better photos of the day

13/6. I wakeup at six, as it is getting light. The only sound is the pigeons and a cricket. I make coffee, and enjoy the tranquillity.

The day will be spend around the town of Pejeng, in which I live. My departure is delayed, as a shower passes.
Then I do a big loop outside town, to cross the river. Despite I have plenty of time, I take the car. But I stop whenever I can, to enjoying whatever I passes. I actually wished I could ditch the car more often, but it is hard.

I get out to un-touristed villages with rice, banana and coconuts plantations. The sun breaks through in real short and scars glimpses.
Then it is back into town, and I pass an area which I have marked for its handicrafts. It is north of Tegallalang: Jl Raya Ubud, but not that interesting. I ditch the car in front of a closed shop, and start to walk. I pass a breakfast joint, and get rice, bean-sprouts, eggs, some green leaves and sauce – real nice.

I actually nick my town on the way to my next planned sight, and the last kilometre would have been faster walking. I stop a single time to see some rice fields with tiny sheets behind. The sun just vanished, and it was a key ingredient.

Then I reach the large an almost vacant parking-lot at Goa Gajah cave, just before 10, as recommended. One of the many shops manages to sell me a black sarong with gold-printings for €7; a real good barging I think. It will get me into temples and take the bloody reflections from the polished dashboard.
The area looks like a vulcanite crater, covered in jungle - which it most like is. Here are several temples and a single, little cave, entered by the mouth if Bhoma. I see the ponds, other temples and the jungle.

I find a back-entrance, leading out to a village. I pass, what I think are two wedding ceremonies. I stop for a cup of coffee, then head on towards my next site, around a kilometre away bye the tiny roads and foot paths.

The Yeh Pulu Temple is found in the rice patches, where a river have cut itself deep into the sandstone. The main site might be the 25 meter long cliff carving of people and horses. For me, it is rather the golden-sided skinks, lotus ponds, coconut palms, rice patches and the wild nature in-between.

I find a real slippery path, making a huge loop through the area. Unfortunately, the sun is a real unreliable travel companion. I see some large ticks, what look like a Congo snail and two tiny cows. It seems like I only have to share it all with a few farmers - and the ticket girl.

I should be able to walk to the Bandung Waterfall in an hour, and through farmland. I pass a funeral and lots of temple-like homes. The Bandung Waterfall can be described with one word: Disappointing. Mainly concrete, then some rocks overgrown with mosses, pretty much hiding the last little fall. On the bright side, I finally get a photo of the golden-sided skink.

Then I have half an hour walk to Pura Ukur Ukuran. The sun almost penetrate the mist, and it get real steamy. I stop at a mini-mart for ice-tea, coconut cookies and updating the diary.
When I  get away from the tourist-infested areas, things and food are cheap. However, they tend only to last a day or less. The ring turns my finger green in hours. The camera-bag loose both things to open the zipper in one day. The belly-bag crack the buckle in one day. Well, the reading glasses still live along with the sunglasses - which are real crappy.

I reach Pura Ukur Ukuran slightly sweaty at two. Here, I meet an American journalist at the steps, and we have a long an interesting chat. Meanwhile, a tiny (cat-?) snake passed under two huge stone-ones, making the railing. I'm here all by myself, not even an entrance fee, and I get to see yet one more temple, although breathily.

Another half hour of walking brings me to Pura Penataran Sasih. Another temple, looking the same, except from the steep entrance fee of €5: I see it from outside.
The market on the other side have cloths, shoos and food. I find a replacement belly-bag, although I might only use the buckle. I break the half hour back to the car, with a cup of Bali coffee.

I’ve been walking for nearly eight hours, but don’t really look forward for the drive home and the struggle, getting a parking space. I spot a valet parking between my restaurant and hotel. Only €2, and I can get the car after seven in the morning.

Unfortunately, it seems like I have exhausted the menu with yesterday’s eggplant, but I get to add eggs. Right next to the restaurant is the river – around 20 meters down, aerial roots and exotic plants fill the space.

It darkens as I enjoy my dinner, and I call it a day. It have not been raining, and the frogs are replaced with geckos. In the other end of the camp, I’m pretty sure I hear a tokay.
 Day's highlights     All the better photos of the day

               Then I continue in Diary 3.