Indonesian                                      
     BALI DIARY  3                        

14/6. The day is set out to explore the big, but cosy city I stay in: Ubud. It means yet another day of walking. I get an early start, and see how the locals are using their town, before the tourists take over.
Here are kind of a marked in front of all the fancy shops which are selling things with no actually use. Now, people buy food, offerings, cloths, household and alike.

I find the central market, which is still closed, and I will return. I had some temples and museums lined up, but they only opens later, and frankly, I do fine without. I pass a river, which have cut itself deep down. It is like I’m entering another world. The walls are covered in plants, and a few locals are washing cloths and themselves. The temperature have dropped 10C and further into the tunnel, a dark temple is found.

I find some mie gorang way out, but skip their overpriced coffee: Half the meal. I find a reasonable priced one, down the road. While I enjoy it, nine VW military beetle cabriolets in different colours passes. Not an everyday sight. Well, it might be fibreglass replicas on the frame of original beetles. They do have the right boxer-sound.

I reach Pura Gunung Lebah, the oldest temple from the 8^th century, but besides from being closed, it look like most others.

Right next to it is the start of the Campuan Ridge Walk. It follows the high ridge between two branches of the river, and is pure nature. I see a family of green jungle hens; Gallus varius, the cook having a blue and red comb.

I join up with an cosy Australian birdie, with a huge camera. It is becoming too late for birds, but I see skinks, purple snails and a finger-sized Rusty Millipede; Trigoniulus corallinus. After more than a kilometre, the trail meets civilisation, and we return. Back at the temple, I make it down to the rivers, pass some giant fig-trees with walls of aerial roots.

After a mini-mart coffee, I head back into town at noon. The first planned stop is at the Museum Puri Lukisan with Balinese art. I’m not that keen, and figure out, I rather have 20 cups of mini-mart coffee.

Right next to the museum, a narrow trail leads into the beautiful farmland. I see two types of unfamiliar finches, a monitor and some crispy ducks in the making – early stage: At their pond. Kind of reluctant, I return after a kilometre, when I meet settlement.

Another little road leads deep in, but allied with souvenir shops. I do it anyway. And get my first “art museum coffee”. Despite it is slightly cloudy and misty, it is steamy.

Once more, I pass the temple; Pura Taman Saraswati, but see enough from the outside. Well, it is still closed anyway. Then I do some loops at the giant building, holding the central tourist marked. I must admit, their mask, both in rose wood along with the painted and gold covered, are real exclusive. A single shop have 25 centimetres electric guitars models in cases for €20 – might get them for €8. I find a better pair of sunglasses, and leave it to that.

When I get out, some black clouds have gathered. I grab a blackcurrant ice-tea and head into another market. Unfortunately, it is not that covered, and panic is spreading fast. Loads of plastic sheets are spread over everything, and then the clouds opens, and it is a massive thundershower.
Just like the shops' sealing, it is way too much for my umbrella, and I eventually seek shelter in a fancy café.

Strangely enough, it seems like city is not prepared for this kind of rain. The gutters are rivers or rapids, and some meet on the middle of the roads. The amount of mopeds drops, but some still dear mingling with the rather blinded cars. A pick-up passes with stressed and red pigs, in tiny cages, leaving no room for standing.

It actually rain for quite some time, and the rivers must be – flooded? At three, it is still pouring down, but I have seen – or skipped - what I intended to see today, and let it rain, while I slowly sip my overpriced coffee – six times more expensive than the previous, and the same taste.

The only thing I haven’t found, is a piece of string, like a shoo lace, to theft-protect my belly-bag - although I don't think that is needed. Oh yes, and another local restaurant, selling something else vegetarian than eggplant. Some shops have some bone carvings from ox-skulls over crocodile- and monkey- to bird's sculls. I find a traditional New Zealand fish hook for a friend, who lost her after 40 years.

I do more exploring of this rather cosy town. Plenty of tourists, but they cope well. At dusk, just before I reach home, I find a family run restaurant, and give it a try. Like coffee, it is a fifth of the tourist price – and most likely better.

It haven’t gone steamy after the rain, and I let the fan have the night off – till the mosquitoes take advantage.
 Day's highlights       All the better photos of the day

15/6. I’m ready when the parking opens at seven, despite it will be an easy day. I start in a village I passed the other day, producing some of the fantastic wood carvings. Unfortunately, they are not ready yet, and it might not be helping it is Sunday.

Then I try the integrated Pura Pushe and Pura Dasar temples. I have to wait a bit for them to open. Then I can pay the fee and get dressed up. These are old temples, but with Hindi goods as well. It is a large area, and I have it to myself this early. So much great craft art, so quite and a real treat. The sun is still a bit low, but then the hordes arrive, and I flee.

I look for breakfast in the nearby Batuan village, but fails. Then I head back to the craft village. No luck, except a tourist place. Well, half pass nine, I’m not fussy. Tofu and rice is still good. I head next door for a cup of coffee at the Alfa-Mart. At a modern shop, I find a replacement belt-bag for less than one euro.

The sun might be high enough to lighten up the waterfalls of Tegenungan Blangsinga, found outside the Batuan settlement, a few kilometres out of town. It is a rather large fall, found at the end of a gorge. It is completely tourist infested, but the vide gorge have some fine greenery. I pay one fee, but have to pay another to get real close. Well, I just see the narrow fall on my way out.

I see a glass suspension bridge, and head through farmland to reach it. As suspected, the fee is ridiculous high. I do some more farmland, and then a coffee at a local place.

I haven’t seen the sea for days, and head out to the eastern coast, through the narrow roads through rice fields. It is a truly maze of tiny roads. Some have a line in the middle, but my tiny car touch both gutters. Here are pepperfruits, tobacco, rice and onions, real clean fields with healthy crops.

I reach the beach in the Saba area, and the guy charging me, do not even speak the numbers in English. The fee is only a cup of coffee, and I guess, I the first foreigner this week – or month. A line of stalls offers snacks, one food, and I try their vegetarian one, served with sea-view and a vide smile. However, I skip the kitchen-photo. I am served a huge mount of tofu in peanut butter sauce with a dash of noodles and some chips. Delicious, and with coffee, I pay less than an euro.

It is just like the other beach I went to, except the beach pickings are scars, while the plastic not so much. I actually thought of go swimming, but the waves are too big for comfort.

A few hundred meters to the north, my GPS have the golden beach of Pantai Saba, and I have a look. No paid parking, and it is not season for turtle centre. The beach is yet another black and magnetic beach. Here are no beach pickings at all, but some angler-men, outrigger fishing boats and old locals, covered in the hot, black sand.

I return to the giant Bodhi-tree I’m parked under, and as it is too early to call it a day, I find a waterfall, around an hour away, on the other side of Ubud. I make a detour to avoid the city for now - and the tour.

It is a nice drive on narrow but empty roads, through farmland with mainly rice, but also what look like corn and quite some, I fail to recognise. The small villages are specialised. Clay-work, wood or stone cutting, weaving with straws, furniture and other.

An area look interesting with spare-parts for temples. I find a large paid parking, and end up visiting Pura Goa Gajah, with temple, cave, waterfalls and river. It is way down a gorge, and a real nice place. Here are ponds, temples and a cave with the mouth of Bhoma for entrance.
I follow a muddy and real slippery trail, all the way down to the river. It is truly a magical place, where the sunlight penetrate the green leaves, over the rapid river.

I figure it will allied perfect for the evening heron gathering in Petulu, after 17. I get there 17;09; but apparently, the herons didn’t get the memo. I try another road home, but not a single white heron.

I pass my cosy hotel to ditch the sarong, then find my new favourite restaurant for some fried rice and noodles.
 Day's highlights       All the better photos of the day

               And then into the last page; Diary 4.