Follow the leader

Road to the mountains taken from our car

A lot of concentration is needed when driving in Bali. As well as the overloaded trucks and the bakso carts there are thousands of scooters. Passing in all directions. An intersection is an intricate dance that requires patience and skill. Last week we were told, seriously, to drive carefully, especially on steep, windy roads. If a motorcyclist is coming around the bend on the wrong side of the road, and you collect them, and they die, you must pay for the funeral or go to jail. It's always your fault. Said very matter of factly, but there was no escaping the meaning. Deadly, in every sense, serious.

So imagine adding to the normal stresses of the road, trying to follow another driver to a destination. Separated at one of those intersections, trying to guess which direction he might have gone at crossroads, every vehicle ahead suddenly all silver Suzukis, nowhere for him to pull over and wait. Well, we did it and we lived to tell the tale.

Our Balinese friend was planning to take some Japanese visitors up to see the World Heritage terraced rice paddies and subak watering system of Jatiluwih. There was no room in the car for us, but now that we had our own transport, would we like to follow? Certainly we would.

First we needed fuel, and managed to lose him less than a kilometre from home. Somehow we found the service station with our friend waiting, but it was out of fuel and closed. So off we headed again, and as we turned off main roads down narrower streets, the following became easier and the condition of the roads worse. Of course he knew where he was going, we thought; we found fuel and set off again. Soon we were beginning to doubt his navigational skills, but it turned out to be more Balinese hospitality. By going the long way, the very long way, we enjoyed unspoiled countryside, lovely villages and roads that hadn't seen any maintenance in decades. When we reached the main road again it was the relief of the old joke - how good it feels when you stop banging your head against the brick wall.

Jatiluwih was indeed beautiful with the backdrop of the mountains, the terraces stretched in all directions and the rice at different stages of the cycle. This is not the standard high yield GM rice, but Bali asli, the original rice of the island. Unlike the terraces at Tegallalang, closer to Ubud, this area is not overrun with visitors and stalls, but there are several warungs to cater for those that come, and the banjar wisely charges Rp 15000 per person to drive through. It was a little overcast and on a fine, clear day would be stunning. Another lovely, unexpected day out and well worth the bone-juddering trip to get there. Coming home it was straight down the Denpasar-Singaraja road - a much less interesting and much faster journey.

That was the week...

Candidasa

Just for the record (ours, and for your possible interest) in the past seven days we have

• caught up with friends visiting from our small town in Western Australia, including lunch at Murni's Warung, and meeting other members of their family
• caught up with the family and friends of friends
• been in the winner's circle at two quiz nights
• enjoyed a Balinese birthday party (another, not the one with the dancing) with off-a-normal-menu food, such as goose sate and goose lawar
• got ourselves some transport, and therefore travel freedom
• found a dentist
• enjoyed another informative pre-Festival night at Bar Luna, hearing about programmed authors Tash Aw, Diana Greentree, Pallavi Aiyer and our friend, Kirsty Murray
• have been to Candidasa on a stakeout for a more informed trip to the coast later
• explored the Ubud hinterland, including tiny beautiful villages with narrow roads spread with the drying rice harvest.

All's well with our world.

Climb every mountain

Eddie has gone to climb a mountain. This gives me a bit of time to update before we head off to class later in the day (and to do some study after a busy weekend). Or me to go to class, if he is not back. He and our host have driven for about 45 minutes into the countryside and will spend a couple of hours climbing to 1000 metres and coming back down again. Think it's one of the mountains we can see from our window, but certainly not Mt Agung, the sacred volcano. That is best done from 2am so that climbers are rewarded with the sunrise. Agung last erupted in 1963, and although there have been rumblings since, the gods appear to be fairly happy at the moment. The most recent trouble has been pretty serious wildfires last year.

When our commitment to classes in June finishes, Eddie and our host plan to walk back to Ubud from Kintamani (Mt Batur), a stroll of about seven hours. No shortage of walks for the dedicated. You can see the Batur caldera in the pic above, thanks to Wikitravel.

In the tradition of spontaneity that has become our social life, Saturday's quiz at Mingle (fun but no prize for us) led to an invitation to Sunday lunch at Villa Kitty. I have spoken before of the work that Elizabeth and her staff do to care for the abandoned kittens and cats, not just of Ubud, but from anywhere on the island. The work is pretty overwhelming and help is always needed. Help of the sit-and-cuddle-and-socialise-the-cats kind, or financial help. Professional local staff take care of medical needs, and at the moment the quarantine section is full as cat flu has taken hold. Current tally is 113 cats, plus a few dogs. If you are a cat lover who is coming to Bali and would like to bring supplies, get in touch with Elizabeth via the website and she will let you know what they require at any particular time. We are both animal lovers in general, but I do wear my catty heart on my sleeve. We can't adopt, but we will do what we can to help out while we are here. Not just at VK, we will look at other volunteering possibilities once we have finished language classes. The important tenet is that no Western volunteer should take a paid position away from a local person, so help can be as simple as cuddling a kitten, and that's not hard.

When we first arrived the rice plants in the sawah (fields) behind were green. Now they have turned yellow and harvesting and threshing have commenced. Genetic modification has increased yield for the farmers, but it has also changed the ecology. With insects no longer interested, the frogs are diminishing; when the frogs go so do the ducks. That means artificial fertiliser rather than duck poo. Four plantings a year, no rotation any more, higher yield, but how high is the real price? We read in Ibu Cat's book Bali Daze that experimental plantings of heritage rice strains are providing bountiful yields (much to the surprise of the sceptics) and the taste is infinitely better. White rice is ubiquitous, black rice is delicious, but at yesterday's lunch we had red rice for the first time, and that was amazing. So we will look out for the non-GM variety, pay a little more and hope that it catches on. I had no idea that the taste of white rice can be as varied as tea, coffee or for that matter, wine - depending on the strain. Learning every day.