Countdown

Only four weeks left! And they will be busy, so before we know it we will be dragging our heels to reluctantly get on that flight home. Of course it will be lovely to see family and friends, but our time here has left us wanting more.

So what will be keeping us occupied in these final weeks? Happily, very happily, family will be visiting next week. Just for a week, but it will be fun showing them places and sharing meals with face-to-face conversation. The car will really come into its own, with the freedom to hit the shops, see the sights and enjoy a must-visit for the seven-year-old twin boys, Waterbom Park.

A few days after they jet off, not home but to Hong Kong (lucky boys), the Writers Festival happens. And that really is a full-on four days. I will have much more to say about this event soon.

And after that? We will go to the village of Munduk in north Bali for five days to take part in a housing program being run by Habitat for Humanity Indonesia.

Then to the airport, and home.

So, you can see we have plans. And next year? More plans.

But we haven't left yet, so these pages will continue to keep you up to date.

Links to follow.

Spicy, but nice

Breakfast this morning was a real surprise. As I have mentioned before, I have told the kitchen that I am happy to eat anything they feel like preparing. Variations on eggs, including plump, vegetable-filled omelettes, nasi goreng, pancakes - every day is different.

But this morning, presented on a banana leaf, was a proper Balinese breakfast of burbur sayur, or vegetable rice porridge. I didn't have the camera, and I can't find an image that even gets close to how it appeared when unwrapped, so you will have to trust me that it looked wonderful.

Wayan had stopped at a roadside stall on her way to work to purchase this very typical Balinese breakfast for us. Glutinous rice, mixed with green vegetables and garnished with a delicious, but on-the-hot-side spicy paste, it tasted as good as it looked. The banana leaf was parcelled into a triangle fastened with a toothpick*, and the texture of the dish was such that it could easily be eaten with the hands, as Balinese people do.

Roadside stall holders can be seen everywhere throughout the day and night. They seem to specialise: some sell sweet cakes, others bakso** and tofu dishes, still others cool drinks made from fresh young coconuts. Prices are so cheap that almost everyone can afford to buy and so the wheels of the economy keep turning.

Bumbu, or the particular spice mixes, are what distinguish Balinese food from the rest of Indonesia. Everyday food is as simple as our breakfast this morning. Families will do their cooking in the morning and eat throughout the day as needed. The food will not necessarily be served warm, but it is likely to be spicy. Ceremonial food is a different story and preparation is usually done by the men, starting before dawn, for big occasions. No expense is spared. Typical Balinese dishes include

• lawar
• babi guling
• sate lilit
• betutu
• sayur urab
• burbur injin

There are many cooking schools that offer morning or afternoon cooking classes that usually involve a trip to the market as well. Janet deNeefe's book, The Food of My Island Home is an excellent kitchen companion.

When eating out, you soon learn which places have your favourite version of any dish. In my experience, it's usually the first one you try that sets the benchmark for any others.

So thanks to Wayan for her breakfast gift this morning, which has served as the inspiration for today's post.

*The image has come from flickr, the food cart on a rainy day is mine, taken from the car.
**Indonesian, rather than specifically Balinese food

The bad with the good

I guess we have done well up until now to never have experienced a real problem here. Not just on this trip, but in many years of coming here. Our health has been good, and we have not experienced any other difficulties at all.

I have been thinking for a while about writing a post about the practicalities of living here. And I will. Soon. One, of course, is money. We have a weekly budget for this cash economy, withdrawn each Monday morning from the ATM, and even with exchange rates and bank fees, the system has worked for us. Until this morning.

Because of limits, two equal transactions are needed. The first went well. The second timed out. Why did I try again? The third also timed out and now on the bank statement are three withdrawals and in our hand, one lot of cash.

Hiccup? Skimming? Who knows. The first call back to the bank in Australia chewed up all the mobile credit quick smart and dropped out before we could explain properly.

While topping up at Bintang Supermarket, the ever-helpful Balinese man who has been doing this for us all year, gave us the dial out code that makes international calls cheaper. For our provider, Telkomsel, it's 01017 followed by the country code, then the number. How did we not know this? But we do now, and the second call cost about 70 cents.

Now we have a waiting game. But we have also learned something else that will be useful in future.

Not all rosy on the island

Much as we love being here, every so often we are reminded that things are done differently here. This is not Australia, or the US or any other Western democracy. We are living here - as guests - in Indonesia. Sometimes things happen that we are not happy about, but as foreigners we are powerless to act. When I wrote about this film*, I felt as uneasy as when I was watching it. This post is equally difficult to write.

The latest, very sad problem, concerns BAWA, who have been doing wonderful work rescuing and rehabilitating Bali's many animals, mainly dogs, but cats and other animals too. Now their licence to operate is under threat and they have been given a very short window to meet stipulated requirements.

There are many rumours flying around about the circumstances. My reading is that the founder's home was raided recently and the authorities claim that the (11? 13? 16? - it varies) dogs living there did not have rabies immunisation. BAWA of course denies these allegations. Rabies is certainly back in the area, but it seems highly unlikely that BAWA dogs would be a threat, given that helping eradicate it is their mission.

So what is going on? Maybe it's the forthcoming APEC summit. With 10 presidents, including Obama, and prime ministers turning up shortly, getting rid of dogs and beggars will create a better look. Every country does it, even Western democracies, so Indonesia is not alone in scrubbing up. But it's just BAWA, not the other animal welfare groups, that is being targeted and that suggests to me that there is an agenda. I could be wrong but maybe someone has offended someone else, who has a bit of clout, and they have chosen to exercise their power. There are certain mechanisms that make wheels go around here, after all.

Social media here has exploded. And that is a problem. Impulsive outraged posts, not tempered by reflection, are likely to exacerbate the situation by further alienating authority and reinforcing the view that Westerners are meddlesome. Unfortunately there is a coterie of expats who feel they have a duty to save the Balinese from themselves. You see it particularly in the animal sector and the environment. There can be a patronising 'we know best' attitude that can fail to take cultural factors into account. The actual doers, who set up the charities and employ local people to help make genuine change, seem to be sensitive to local conditions, but hasty ill-informed commentary helps nobody.

Many people don't realise that unless they have the correct visa, work - even volunteer work - is not permitted. Visa cancellation, and possible future entry refusal, is a reality. BAWA and other groups would not exist without volunteers, and authorities, until now, have not interfered. This situation cannot be jeopardised for the sake of the many needy charities here.

Fortunately many Balinese people are as upset as the bules about the BAWA situation. They know who has influence and how best to approach them so that the animals of Bali can continue to receive the help they need. Financial and medical support for BAWA is still required and hopefully with the help of concerned Balinese people, the situation will be resolved quickly.

They do things differently here. It's complicated.

It was very difficult to select an image for this post. There are many very distressing ones on line, and many that are too cute. In the end I chose one that we took ourselves of a lovely healthy fellow in Jl Goutama. Nothing wrong with his legs - he got up and had a good stretch soon after. All Bali dogs should be like him. Unfortunately, even with a collar, dogs like him are disappearing or being poisoned unless the owners keep them in at night.

* Being screened again during the Ubud Writers and Readers Festival next month.

Pondok Pekak Library

Another visit to Ketut yesterday jogged my memory that I had not yet written about Pondok Pekak Library and Resource Centre. Yes, believe it or not, this is the third visit to Ketut's traditional boreh massage place (aka House of Pain), but I have been opting for marginally less intensive treatments, such as shoulder and leg massages. Firm, but not as eye-watering as the reflexology. Eddie meanwhile has had his third full boreh treatment and declares that he feels great. I tried boreh last week. I didn't mind the messy paste part, but I found the sauna slightly claustrophic, although the herbs smelled wonderful. As an aside, Wayan's (the reflexology master) first child was born last week so he has been taking some parental leave. A little girl, also called Wayan. Of course.

The common denominator with Ketut's place and Pondok Pekak is Made Sumendra, who is connected with both. He started the library along with his late wife Laurie Billington in 1995 with the aim to introduce reading and culture to local children who had no access to books. Situated on the east side of the football field, there is not much indication of what to expect as you enter the distinctive archway. Beyond is a traditional family compound, and to the right is the entrance to what appears to be a small room. Not so! The space expands to reveal an extensive collection* of well organised books leading to an even larger space with a children's collection in a variety of languages, a reading area, and an activity area complete with gamelan. There is even more space upstairs.

The library was built as an annex to the family compound and named after Made's grandfather, Pekak Mangku. It's lovely to know that Pondok Kekak literally translates as 'grandfather's little resting house in the rice field'. As well as a lending service, for which a modest fee** is payable, the centre offers cultural classes in wood carving, offerings, fruit and vegetable carving, gamelan, silver jewellery making, Balinese dance and traditional painting - all the arts of Bali. It also serves as a practice space for choirs, language classes, poetry readings and other performances.

This fabulous resource is another haven of peace from the Jl. Monkey Forest bustle and well worth a visit if you are in town. The library is always in need of books, but particularly Indonesian language children's books. Books can be donated or purchased new at the also-wonderful Ganesha Bookshop. It's a very practical way for visiting book lovers to help.

*More than 10000 items
**Rp250,000 a year for all you can read, or a refundable deposit for short-term visitors

Orchids

Particularly lovely, and prolific, at the moment.

What's in a name?

There's an series of advertisements on Australian television that have captured the public imagination. They are funny and flirty and take a self-deprecating dig at Australian tourists here in Bali. The ongoing Ketut and Rhonda story has even spawned a t-shirt industry in Kuta, although some of the slogans could be more tasteful. Non-Australians must wonder.

Ketut is a common Balinese name, but even more so is Wayan. Why is it so? It took a number of trips to Bali before we started to figure out the naming system here. At first glance it seems simple. Male or female, it makes no difference - first child Wayan, second child Made, third child Nyoman, fourth child Ketut. Any more than four, and it starts all over again. The male indicator in a name is I, the female, Ni. Thus you always know that I Wayan [insert family name] is male and the first born in his family, and Ni Wayan [insert family name] is female. Possibly confusing, but simple. Well, not quite - there's a bit more to it.

This naming system only applies to the Sudra caste, an estimated 93% of the population. But if that is the case, why do we hear other names like Putu or Komeng?

That's because even the Balinese probably feel a bit over-Wayaned. The name Wayan comes from the Balinese word 'wayahan', meaning eldest. But the first born can also be named Gede or Putu. Second born children can be Made, Kadek or Nengah, third born Nyoman or Komeng, but Ketut will always be Ketut.

The social hierarchy in Bali becomes evident through the naming system, so people are always aware. The Balinese language must be used at the correct level (there are three) of propriety according to who is being addressed; and intermarriage between castes is not supposed to happen, although face can be saved through various ploys. A mock kidnapping is the most common - once the young couple have 'run off' together, well, what can a family do?

The three other castes, in ascending order with Sudra at the bottom are:

• Wesya - merchants (names: Dewa, Sang, Gusti)
• Satria - warriors and kings (aristocratic titles: Gusti Agung, Anak Agung, Cokorda)
• Brahmin - priests and teachers (aristocratic titles: Ida Bagus, male; Ida Ayu, female)

Thus each Balinese is always aware of the caste of another and knows whether to pay deference or receive it. Murni's article and this one are worth reading to learn more. The ever-helpful Bali Advertiser even has a chart.

The other thing our ears are noticing is the Balinese (Indonesian?) way of abbreviating words. Unlike in English, nicknames come from the end of a name, not the beginning, so Wayan could be Yan and Ketut becomes Tut. Similarly, the quick way of saying 'thank you' (terima kasih) to turn it into 'thanks' is makasih. 

Living and learning. Writing all this down helps me get my head around it too.

A Balinese hero

On one of our trips to Denpasar recently, I bought an Indonesian school atlas. For less than $1, it has proven to be hugely informative. Maps of all the provinces, lists of provincial capitals and major towns, heights of mountains, which volcanoes are considered active and at the back, portraits of national heroes. All in Bahasa Indonesia of course, but very visual, as you expect an atlas to be. There is only one Balinese name on this list of heroes* that I could see, I Gusti Ngurah Rai.

We have been flying into Bali for many years, but we have never really thought too much about the name of the airport, Ngurah Rai International. We had also noticed the handsome young man with the same name on the Rp 50000 note, but with the familiarity of banknotes, again we never thought to enquire. It was time to make amends.

A little investigation led to the realisation that less than an hour's drive away was a memorial park in Margarana for all the Balinese who died fighting for independence against the Dutch at the end of World War Two. I Gusti Ngurah Rai was a key leader of the resistance, and he died on 20th November 1946 at the age of 29 along with all his troops, in a puputan, or fight to the death, rather than surrender. This event is referred to as the Battle of Margarana.

Our sat nav wasn't particularly useful and just as we were ready to give up, there was the sign we had been looking for. (This happens quite a bit). Margarana is apparently seldom visited by foreigners, but holds the same place in the hearts of Balinese people that the War Memorial in Canberra does for Australians.

The park itself is truly beautiful. A few Balinese families were there on a glorious day enjoying the tranquillity.

Well tended lawns, gardens and ponds led to the area at the back with rows and rows of headstones. It is always sobering and immensely sad to visit the site of war graves. We had heard that several Japanese soldiers were buried here too. They had stayed behind after the occupation to join the independence struggle, but we could not find their resting place and there were no guides. The small museum wasn't open, but peering through the windows it looked to be very interesting. A major commemoration is held on the site on November 20 each year.

The longer we stay here, the more we realise there is so much we don't know, but we are now marginally less ignorant about a man who remains a hero, not just to the Balinese people, but to all Indonesians.

*A handful of women are regarded as National Heroes. One, Kartini, is being celebrated at this year's Ubud Writers and Readers Festival, so I will also write about her soon.

More on ceremonies

Some additional comments about ceremonies.

On the way home from our Seminyak weekend on Sunday, we passed an enormous gathering in the village of Lotunduh. Everyone looked extra smart, especially the women, who all wore headbands, their hair done in a particular way, a white lace kebaya and a yellow sash. This is the best I could do from the car and we are still not sure what it was about.

On Sunday evening we became aware of something else going, on fairly close by, that went into the early hours. It wasn't the usual chanting, but more a commentary by various voices, male and female, over a loudspeaker. We found out the next morning that this was one of the final ceremonies for the cremation that we watched a few weeks ago. The families were speaking for their loved ones before the ashes are taken to the river for their final journey to the sea, so that rebirth can occur.

There's something to learn every day.

Seminyak

You don't come to Seminyak to see Bali. You come to Seminyak to laze around a pool in a private villa or resort, to shop and to eat at one of the very many quality international restaurants. Seminyak itself is a building site surrounded by a traffic jam. When we first came here to stay, in early 2006 not long after the second bombings, there were few people here and we were actually thanked by local people in the street for coming to Bali. Not long before that, Seminyak wasn't even here. Now it's an extension of the Kuta/Legian strip, with a mediocre beach but some good fashion shopping. But to see Bali? No.

So why are we here*? If you have been reading this blog for a while you will know that we occasionally need to head out of the hills to watch our respective football darlings play on television. Normally we go to Sanur, which is a bit closer to Ubud, but after a disappointing hotel last time we thought we'd give resortville a try.

Last minute hotel booking sites are great. You can stay within budget and compare facilities before committing. Seminyak was generally cheaper than Sanur and Wotif had an interesting looking mystery selection that was $10 a night cheaper than the two-star place we last had in Sanur. It ticked our boxes of parking and cable tv, so with nothing to lose we took our chances.

So here we are. It's away from the traffic chaos, the car is tucked away in secure parking and we have been doing the pool lounging and tv watching thing in a lovely room overlooking the aforementioned pool. Quality bath and bed linen, a really, really comfy bed, brilliant breakfast this morning - it's everything Seminyak is about. So good in fact we have booked for another night and negotiated the same mystery deal. A little bit of luxury at a bargain price is not to be sneezed at. We don't need to shop, and we might (or not) wander out to a restaurant tonight.

Oh, and my particular darlings have just won a critical finals game. All's well with the world.

*Still a mystery for a little while. I'll add links back in Ubud. Tablets are not link friendly.

No gain without pain?

If you are a person who enjoys spas, you are spoilt for choice here in Ubud at all price levels. We have been once or twice but are not frequent spa attenders. Therefore, for us to have two utterly contrasting experiences in two days is quite out of character. Both good, but very, very different.

If you are reading this back home, Gay, you'll be pleased to know that we took your advice, booked in at Skin and had the most relaxing time. A foot and leg massage plus pedicure for me, and ditto massage and ear candle for Eddie. Everything you said, and we will be back. It's not the biggest, flashiest place in town, but it's located on one of my favourite streets, it's friendly and we both felt fantastic afterwards. The spa experience that Westerners have come to expect.

At the other end of Jalan Goutama, the end that hasn't become trendy yet, is Boreh Pijat. Pijat we knew. Massage. But boreh? We would soon find out. Noticing the greenery we walked in to be greeted by Ketut who showed us around. Behind a garden full of organic herbs was a small massage area and sauna and Ketut explained that the herbs are used to make a traditional Balinese clay paste that is smeared over the body after a massage and then sweated off, along with toxins, in the sauna. With a price list designed to attract locals, how could we resist an invitation to try, and booked for today. Me, being a little more cautious (I thought) opted for a reflexology treatment, Eddie for the works.

When will we learn not to arrive early? We should know about jam karet* by now. Ketut wasn't around, and the two young people, Wayan and Eka, weren't quite ready for us. In the most polite Balinese way, of course, they bustled, despite our protestations that we would wait. Offerings needed to be presented, prayers to be said and the fire made in preparation for the sauna. Not to mention the grinding of herbs and preparation of the paste. I had brought a book (a great one about Bali loaned to me)** but as soon as Eddie eventually set off on a little walk, it became action stations.

Wayan, who had made the offerings and prayers a little earlier, was to do my reflexology. A young man who has a distinct spirituality about him, he spoke very little English - just a few words. Eka's English was much better and she dealt with Eddie.

Now I knew just enough about reflexology not to expect a gentle foot massage. I knew that pain was a marker for a problem area in the body. Two minutes in I was ready to call it quits, like the wimp I am. I thought about cowboy movies where the poor sod who needs to have the bullet removed is given a rag to bite. I thought about childbirth. I thought about burning coals. Nothing had prepared me for the fact that I am obviously in such poor internal shape that every millimeter of my foot/feet was excruciating. I have no wish to be discouraging, and yours, dear reader, will be an entirely different scenario, of course. But I endured. I survived for over an hour and at the end Wayan had to admit, when showing me the charts, that I had 'banyak' problems. Well I've lived with them this long, so I'll continue as I was. Not going through that again. But we had a good laugh together at my expense, and a little I later found out that his implements of torture included a shark's tooth and a cow's horn with a piece of jade embedded.

Meanwhile, Eddie was being prepared by Eka for his pasting and sauna with a rigorous massage. We both finished at about the same time, but I was really finished and could return to my book. Eddie was pasted up and had to wait for the sauna to get hot enough so his treatment took probably another hour. After a shower he emerged sparkling, looking 20 years younger and full of beans. He's booked again for next week***. Me? Maybe a nice shoulder massage will be enough.

It was only when I was waiting for Eddie to finish that I noticed a framed newspaper article on the wall. Only a few weeks ago the Jakarta Post had written a story about Ketut and Boreh Pijat. We had the real deal, all right, and if you'd like to know more, and what boreh is, it's online here. It's fascinating, and I was interested to read about Made Sumendra's connection. His Pondok Pekak library has been on my list of must-write-abouts ever since we visited ages ago. It's moved higher up that list now and you will hear about this wonderful place soon.

Oh, and my feet are still tingling, but they feel great. Bali magic of some sort definitely happened at Boreh Pijat today. But Skin was good too, in a totally different way.

* rubber time
** The Night of Purnama, by Anna Mathews, now a rare book.
*** He also had two bottles of jamu made from tumeric and other herbs from the garden.

Dark moon

Tonight is the dark moon, a magic night. Fifteen days ago it was full moon and it will be again in another 15 days. So goes the cycle and predictability of Balinese life and with it the ceremonial obligations.

It has been a very busy time, particularly for the women who must make the appropriate offerings for each ceremony. It has been an auspicious time for the big events such as ngaben (cremation), but daily rituals, temple anniversaries, ceremonies as decreed in the calendar, including as tonight those associated with the moon, must be observed. Most people have been in temple dress today, including school children. If people have received a blessing with holy water they will have a few grains of rice on the forehead and throat to symbolise the cleansing of mind and body. I imagine the chanting and praying that I can hear as I write will go on well into the night, and that's certainly not a complaint.

Although many of the women we know are looking a bit tired after weeks of seemingly endless ceremonial business, they would never dream of buying offerings (which can be done - useful for hotels) as they believe that offerings made from the heart will mean much more to the relevant god or goddess. They are intricate, symbolic in content and very labour intensive, but the tradition and technique are still taught at school.  And in a few weeks the huge celebrations of Galungan and Kuningan will take place. During this major holiday time many businesses need to close to allow staff to return to their villages. None of it is lip service religion. It's been the Balinese way of life for centuries and amazingly survives despite enormous social and economic change.

But there's something to be said for a 365-day year. Our Western ceremonies and holidays seem to come around quickly enough. Imagine every 210 days. At least the Balinese haven't been caught up in consumerism. It's entirely about the worship, and there's something to be said for that too.

Image has come from the Go SE Asia website and used with thanks. I will link to the article which discusses the Balinese relationship with the universe as soon as I can.

Heading south

From the top of the island to the bottom in the space of a week. Not that it's a big island, but the traffic can make it seem so. Yesterday, another spontaneous trip south onto the Bukit Peninsula led to visits to Uluwatu and Jimbaran.

Eddie has mastered driving conditions well. Start-stop, and there is a lot of that, is fine but things become a bit hairier on the bypass road that leads to just about everywhere - Sanur, shopping malls, Denpasar, the airport and down to the peninsula. Traffic is faster, but hazards include overloaded trucks, cars suddenly doing a u-turn, thousands of bikes and contempt for lane markings. It can get nerve wracking. For this passenger anyway, but so far so good.

To the right of the narrow neck lies Jimbaran Bay, surprisingly pretty and with views of aircraft landing and leaving what seems like every minute. Maybe the wind conditions were right, as there was no noise.

But the object was to reach the southern tip and Pura Luhur Ulu Watu one of Bali's sea temples established in the 11th century.

To reach the temple you need to drive though the abomination that Ungasan village has become

and we seriously doubted if we had made a good decision. But much to our pleasant surprise there seems to be a green belt for about 5km leading down to the temple, with no development in view at all*. There is some serious money in this area, and with it has come discretion with resorts tucked well away from public gaze. Thank goodness.

Although only Hindu worshippers are permitted to enter the actual temple, the clifftop location and the pathways provide stunning views for visitors.

Monkeys play in the garden and around the grounds and appear to be far less spoiled and greedy than those in Ubud's Sacred Monkey Forest.  I know that my language skills are improving when I can make a joke with a vendor and we both have a good laugh together. (I only do pathetic at the moment: she wanted to sell me food for the monkeys and I told her no thanks, I wasn't hungry. But hey, it's a confidence boost).

The Uluwatu area is also famous for surfing and there was something about the light, the roads to the lovely beaches and the drier vegetation that was strangely reminiscent of how Margaret River and Yallingup used to be, before money found those places too.

So back to Jimbaran and a late lunch on the beach. Famous for its seafood, Jimbaran has three distinct beachside warung areas and we visited the southernmost.

A delicious seafood platter, that included grilled lobster, didn't last long, eaten at Teba Mega as we watched the planes, the few swimmers and the beach dogs, who seem in much better condition than their Ubud street counterparts. The salt water is obviously good for their skin.

We realised that it was this part of the beach** at Jimbaran that suffered from the 2005 bombings when we saw this sign as we were leaving. No bad thing to be reminded.

*By government decree we have since been told. Long may it last.
**Later confirmed

Hati hati

Hati hati means 'be careful' and perhaps if Eddie had been careful and left his hat in the car he wouldn't have lost it at Bangli market. Yes, the hat that has been crushed into bags and suitcases, travelled the world and been worn in winning bowls tournaments has gone from his life forever. This was the hat that always sprang back into looking respectable no matter how badly treated it had been. Gone. But to a good home.

Today we drove up the mountain towards Kintamani again, passing through the regency capital of Bangli, because we hadn't yet been there. A pretty drive, with lovely scenery and men raking rice as no doubt they have done for centuries.

Bangli has wide streets, quite an impressive sports oval, a large memorial to someone we need to find out about*, and a market.

No sooner had we parked the car than the parking man, who spoke no English but had an impressive vocabulary of mime, indicated that he liked Eddie's hat. Really liked it. Liked it so much that his life would be incomplete without having it on his own head. Always. How could Eddie resist such a strong emotional argument. So the hat is gone and no doubt, if we visit Bangli again any time in the next decade, Eddie might catch a glimpse of of it on the head of the man who takes the money for parking. Actually, one of the men, for when we got back, someone else asked for our parking money. We had thought that a freebie might be on offer. But no, so we coughed up a whole Rp2000 and went on our way. Good market though.

Just north of Bangli is Pura Kehen, a large temple tucked into a hillside. Very few vendors, only a few tourists, an impressive entrance and 42 altars. No giggling children to fold our sarongs this time. And is it just me, or is there a very early Angry Birds reference here?

*Anak Agung Gede Anom Mudita, who died fighting the Dutch. The images on the monument are pretty graphic.