Indonesian                                      
    BALI    DIARY  4

When I look at my plan, it does seem a bit heavy with temples, and with the exception of the really special one, it kind of lost the attraction. I head towards them as waypoints, and hopefully I’ll see something interesting along the way and in their vicinity.

The GSP show what look like a maze of roads towards the sea, but it actually the main road. I don’t feel like it is leaving the city at all. In some stretches, the gutter is a wild river. And the two rivers I pass are real flooded up on the road. Apparently, there are no hole in the bridge.

I pass a market in Samplangan, and even find a place to ditch the car soon after. It is a large marked with everything from bunches of flowers to the finish offerings, wholesale of bananas, clothing, household and fresh vegetables. The unsealed lots are a bit muddy, but all the vide smiles make up for it.

The fields are found right behind the single row of huts and houses, but invisible when you drive. I find breakfast at a local diner at the main-road. The neighbour is called in for translation. They are sure not used to tourists here. I get a great meal with coffee, and pay €0,37.

The sun have concurred, and it seems like it will be a great – and warm day. I still try to figure how to carry money, GPS, and camera, wearing my sarong? Well the belly-bag might be the answer, leaving umbrella and water behind.

I am still ten kilometres from my first planned target, but the traffic do lightens up by now. I nick Klungkong, then pass the big coastal road, before I follow a tiny track, down to the beach.

The two temples: Pura Watu Klotok and Pura Segara Watu Klotok are nothing special, despite I have them all to myself.
The pebble-harvest, on the other hand, is intriguing. People run into the surf with a bag, and rush back, when one of the frequent huge waves hits the beach. Then they sort it bye hand and dried it in the sun, before they bag them.

Back inland bye the minor roads, cutting through small fields with tagetes, corn, beans, tobacco, rice and way more, the Pura Dasar Buana Gelgel temple is found. It is a huge area, but almost vacant. The only guy present, throws me out, due to the lack of sarong. Two minutes later, I enters proper dressed.

Then I do the real quiet main-street of Semarapura. I have a long chat with the girl, selling me coffee. She works on cruse ships, and have been around. She married young at 22, where it is more common to wait to 25-27. I do a bit more of the main-street, and returns at the mosque.

Across the tree-covered highway to Kusamba Beach, which is just another black beach with huge waves. And then again: Here is actually a ferry terminal and a fright harbour. Lines of men carry tiles, window frames, card-boxes, gas bottles and beverages out through the tough waves to light ships.
Further down the beach, the small outrigger fishing-boats are drown up to safety. It once more seems to be at least partly a Muslim area, and the minaret praise Allah at noon. 

I have seen the sights of the day, but take a head-start on tomorrow. I head back towards Klungkong, through the green fields. Just before the city, I cross the huge river of Tukad Unda. One side is a cascade on concrete, the other more natural. People are living real close along the river.

I find the central Klungkong, but no parking. Well, a temple have room in front, on the road. It is right across to Puri Semarapura palace. It is a huge building, and quite impressive with a nice roof. Despite my dubious parking, I do a loop in the city. Official buildings and the headquarters of large banks. And a street back, poor people making a living. Besides from a single traditional horse wagon, I see nothing new.

I find bisques and coffee at a mini-mart, and eventually head back towards to the car. Just before I reach it, I enters the beautiful Taman Kertha Gosa, a constriction in a pond.

I realises my next sight is close, and walk there. As expected, the food market is closed by now, but the rest of the waste Klungkong market is still open. Shoos, dresses, bags, toys, religious objects, jewellery and way more. Here are two five story buildings, each with two towers.

Tailor number six on Bali finally agree to sew me some new travelling bags – each around 3x7 centimetres. I can pick then up in the morning. I’m going back anyway to see the food-market. I'm pretty much the only customer in the market, and I haven seen anything for tourists – nor any tourists.

Just as I’m about to look for coffee, a lady offers it to me. There is a nice breeze on the top floor. Despite it is only three, I set the GPS for my new home. It might be found in nice and interesting settings.

I gain 500 meters height right outside town, heading up through the dense forest with huge fern trees. I eventually make it to the little village of Undisan. Half the buildings are temples, the other half just look that way.

I check into yet another family run temple-like hotel, with so many plants. The temperature should drop 5C, but it feels like ten. I get my real nice room, leave nothing and do an extensive walk around the village.
To me, the most interesting is the enormous Bodhi tree. But the huge temple and the many minor are nice too. Everyone greats me with so lovely smiles.

I had expected a restaurant or two would popup at dusk, but apparently, I have to go to the next village: Bang-Bang or something like that. It is a lot up and down hill, and the drizzle makes it clear; instant noodles this evening. Homemade – from the bag. I have a long chat with my pleasant host, then I struggle with my home-bank and budget. A ground-cricket comes bye, but before I get to make a photo, a tokay eats it. I only get a blurry picture of the giant red-dotted gecko.

 I head back down to Klungkong and its meat market. Despite the drizzle, it is a great drive down the mountain. The hall covered in white tiles are not really a meat market after all. Here are a few stands with butchered chickens, but most is dry foot, fruit and vegetables along with flowers for offerings. And I suspect today is dominated with the prepared offering, as it is the Hindi half-year celebration. Last evening, the temples had a lot of pling-plong going on, and my host was real busy preparing for today's temple activities.
 Day's highlights       All the better photos of the day

17/6. I pass my tailor at eight, but that is apparently too early. I do a loop in the still closed markets buildings, then the surrounding streets. I eventually find breakfast in a place I dear eating it. And that despite she does use her fingers to poor up my cold corn, bean and other salads – but not the steaming rice.

In contrast to my tailor, I enters the market complex once more. Shops are slowly opening, and now, the humans outnumber the rats. At the basement of tower G, I find shops with handmade knives, machetes and sickles. Right next to the shops, selling hair barrettes.

Complex E have a food court on the top floor, and I enjoy another cuppa. A bit passed nine, the sun start to penetrate the clouds, but not that convincing.
My tailor is present, and after he have finished replacing a elastic and patched the knees of a kids trousers, it is my turn. While I dig-in to his spare-parts, he head into town to get some small zippers.

After an hour, I have five perfect travel-bags, and he a selfie. He ask for €2,68, I happily pay the double. On my way back through the sunshine to the car, I grab a overpriced Balinese coffee at little joint, but for once, I get it with condensed milk; Milo.

Then it is out into the country side, although the road is aligned with buildings. A bit up the hills, I find the Pura Dalem Sidan temple. Due to the half year celebration, it is alive in a whole new way. The statues and figures are dressed in beautiful embroideries, and every where, there are offerings. Some made of food from a dish full rise over the stems of banana plants to a roasted pig’s head. Other offerings are made of glamorous objects. The air it thick with holy smoke and the neighbourhood with plastic-fire.

Here are a bit of a view to rice terraces and palm trees, and way down, I see someone cleaning dry rice. I do a walk to a hill top with another, rather neglected temple, then back through the village.

I head back through Gianyar and Tusan to find the scenic route to Tembuku. I just have to stop in the tiny Bakas, and have a stroll. It seems like two large temples, two shops and a few houses are it.

Then I really get into the countryside with an endless array of crops in-between the many rice fields. Several places, the farmers are drying their rice on the one lane roads. One area is that nice, I have to walk back to get photos of the rice, bananas, coconut and tiny cow-huts.

I actually parked right outside the entrance to the Krisik Waterfall at 430 meters height. It is several kilometres through the rice fields, and then into a 100 meter deep, but only 10 meter wide canyon.
A bit unexpected, I have to walk the knee-deep river several times. But it is a magic walk, through bare rock-walls and lush nature, all by myself. There is a nice fall at the end of the canyon, and I find a real rough trail, leading up. It is most likely the rice farmers back-entrance.

Another long walk in the rice fields, and I pass a temple, then the ticket booth for the Ari Goa Giri Campuhan Waterfall. Well, pay, and I get to do a couple of kilometres rice fields once more. The kids are catching crabs in the canals, the tiny cows enjoying the shadow in their sheets and the sparrows and nuns are stealing rice.

Another steep decent, long parts in several tunnels, bring me to two parallel falls in a great looking canyon. I desperately try to capture the magic, but it kind of eludes me. With way too many photos of waterfalls, tree-ferns and especially rice fields, I returns to the car for water.

I stop at a little settlement, producing red and golden offering temples from raw tree stems. I find a cake, but no coffee. I should have accepted the offer from the craft-men, working on the house I parked at, at the waterfalls.

In the tiny town of Sidembunut, I find a gas station with a short line, which is unusual, and despite the car is not empty, I take advantage – and find the expected coffee.

I already started on tomorrow’s sights, but continue. Actually, the steep downhill road to here, through the jungle was one. A bit further, and I nick Bangli where I’m going to sleep, to get to the Pura Dalem Penunggekan temple, known for its carvings. It might be great today – or overcrowded by praying and celebrating Balinese?
Here are all kind of decorations and offerings along with a lot of mainly men, dressed in white. I am offered tea or coffee, but don’t get to see the inner yards.

It is time to find my hotel and yoga centre for the night. It is a couples of kilometres out of town, way up a narrow trail. I pass two homes on the way, conforming I'm in the right way. With no sign at the road, I had my doubts. I do the entire neglected area, but find none.

Back in town, I do a big loop in the two main streets, with only some scattered shops. I pass the now closed market and eventually find some hot food. Well, slightly steamed vegetables in a tasty soup. But for € 0,60, what can I expect.

Back at my hotel in Bangli after dark. Here are some lights on, but besides from the night birds, none. I find a door with the key in, and a freshly towel in the kitchen. But no means to heat water for coffee. The back-glass-doors faces the jungle – I think. Here are water and a toilet, and I call it home for the night.

Eventually, my host turns up. He live in a nearby village, work as a nurse at a hospital, and has been at the temple. His hotel is closing down after Covid19, but I booked a long time ago. Fair enough. I get a cold shower and call it a day at nine.
 Day's highlights       All the better photos of the day

               And then into Diary 5.