December 4, 2005
Kirk has been really diligent about blogging while I’ve been keeping my own hand written diary to record all of my impressions and thoughts. So I figured maybe I should throw in a blog about a few of my experiences and impressions of Bali.
Walking off the plane onto the walkway….hot hot hot and the air thick with humidity. This is a welcome change from the cooler temperatures in NZ and OZ. Walking out of the airport into the Bali world….tropical…palm trees line the street…people see you are white and persistently approach you for hiring them for transport.
Kuta Beach….very busy with traffic and people, westernized, a scattering of tourists but probably nothing in comparison to the days before the bombing. We found out we were staying about a block from Ground Zero, which made me a little nervous. Vendors, vendors everywhere soliciting us for places to stay, motorbike hire and transport. More vendors are in the outdoor type strip malls along every road selling sarongs, jewelry, beachwear, food, etc. It really wasn’t so different than a beach town in the states. It made me sad that the Western influence sucked out the culture of this area and replaced it with malls, shops, restaurants and hotels.
The roads are busy with small motorcycles and cars, but the pace is slow. They are very conscientious drivers for the most part and if someone is coming up behind you they give a little “toot” of their horn to let you know they are passing. We heard a lot of toots as we rode along which is a nice change from the full on road rage horns that are used back in the States. The traffic in Denpasar was a little intimidating at times. We were navigating with a map, but found out that it wasn’t that great. The road signs aren’t posted very often or very well and the names of the roads seem to change from one block to the next. It was very confusing. Eventually we made it to the main road we were looking for to take us to Ubud, but that seemed like a little bit of luck mixed with a decent idea of the direction we should be traveling.
Ubud was a nice relaxed little arty town. We enjoyed the slower pace of life there and the culture oozing out of everything and everyone. It was such a pleasure to see the Bali that everyone had told us about. This is where I started to realize that maybe the South Pole really was worth every minute after all.
The road from Ubud to the hot springs at Mt. Batur was full of interesting things. The people watching us ride by with curiosity as they carved, swept or hid from the heat in their roadside shelters. Sometimes they would yell “hallo”, “where you go?” or whistle or say something in Balinese. The children were very entertaining as they would get excited and scream “hallo” at us many times over and over and wave. If we stopped for a rest and there were children close by they would gather around our bikes and thoroughly inspect them all the while smiling and giggling with their friends.
The rice paddies with the people working in them look surreal almost like moving paintings. I feel so lucky to be here!
The poverty of some of these people is very apparent as we ride by their shacks with their tattered clothing lying in the bushes to dry in the sun. We stopped at a little stand about halfway to Ubud looking for a cold drink. A refrigerator caught Kirk’s eye in their very simple and small stand so the couple in it sold us two cold Sprites and a bowl of soup for Kirk. The woman was sitting at a sewing machine sewing together the holes in a ratty t-shirt. They seemed so happy to have us there.
Further up the road we came upon a man just peeing on the side of the road. I guess that’s what they do here because shortly after that we came upon another man doing the same and not being shy about it at all as cars, motorcycles and us on bikes whizzed by (well, we weren’t whizzing really…more like panting by) a couple feet away.
When we reached the top of the hill at Penelokan we were hot, tired and sweaty and I nearly averted a meltdown as I was having flashbacks of the hill in NZ. Thankfully there was an end to this hill and the incline wasn’t nearly as bad. We had a swarm of people meet us at the top of the hill with questions, wanting to sell us things and checking out our bikes. We were pretty overwhelmed. We have learned a lot on this trip so far about bartering, what things should cost, what to say, who to ask for help, etc. and I’m quite sure we will continue to learn more about the society here every day until we leave.
The hot springs was like a little oasis in a ghost town waiting for tourists. Several places to stay had shut down and we had very few to choose from. Thankfully we stumbled upon a very nice woman who helped us and took us to a home stay. Both the woman and the people at the home stay were so gracious and kind to us. They seemed to really enjoy our presence and individually told us how their town has suffered since the bombings. They haven’t seen a single tourist in the last two weeks and that is why they were grateful to have us. It is really sad because so far I would have to say that Bali is the most amazing place I have ever been. It truly is like waking up in a postcard everyday. One of the greatest pleasures so far has been talking with the locals because it has left such a great impression on both Kirk and I. We are learning so much about their way of life and their struggles to make money. It can be heartbreaking.
The 40K ride from Penulisan to Singaraja was pretty fast since it was all downhill. I realized that I needed to be more careful because at the start of our ride I accidentally went off the side of the road into the small patch of rocky terrain adjacent to it. My bicycle jumped out from underneath me and I managed to land on my feet with my toes hanging over the edge of a steep ravine. I thankfully caught my balance while adrenaline was shooting through my veins. That could have been quite a disaster! Especially because Kirk was ahead of me enough to not see or hear me fall. Whew! I’m glad that turned out okay. The temperature at the top was nice and cool but heated up the closer we came to Singaraja. We had to stop several times so Kirk could clear his nose and try to unplug his ears due to his sinus infection. We also stopped a couple of times to shake our hands out. Holding the brakes for that long makes the blood feel like it is no longer in your hands and they cramp a lot. The hillsides were dotted with small houses among lush green as far as the eye could see. It was a pleasant ride.
Singaraja was an active town with buzzing traffic and people everywhere. We happened to find a doctor’s office as we were in search of the local hospital in order to get Kirk some antibiotics. There were a couple of teenage boys that were inside the building and they opened up the window to talk to me while I watched the bikes on the sidewalk. They spoke a few words of English and asked me for cigarettes, snacks and money. I’m pretty sure they were also making fun of my cycling shorts because they pointed and giggled a lot. Remembering that I had a gutter brain myself as a teenager, I laughed along with them.
Lovina Beach was only 8K from Singaraja and looks a lot like Kuta Beach, but with less people, shops and tourists. We were once again bombarded as we rode to the beach just to check it out. We have to take it all with a grain of salt as this is these people’s livelihood to sell items to tourists. They also explained to us that they haven’t had many tourists in the last few weeks. Kirk and I wish that we could help every one of them, but we just can’t. The waiter who served us dinner at our hotel last night told us that he makes the equivalent of $50 USD a month and he works 6 days a week, 8 hours a day with no paid vacation. He said he lives in a boarding house with his wife and kids with an outdoor bathroom for $15 a month so by the time he buys petrol and food he just isn’t making enough money. He said he would really like to travel like we are and his dream is to make enough money to buy some land and build a house for his family. Ugh…so heartbreaking!!! If anything I have come to realize just how wealthy and fortunate we are in comparison to so many in the world. The bicycles, gear and clothing we have are more than these people could probably ever afford in their lifetimes. It’s mind blowing. Especially when you consider that Kirk and I are living off about $35 USD a day for the both of us which includes food, lodging and incidentals and these people make about $50 USD a month to support their families! That makes us feel like we’re pretty much living high on the hog.
We ate at a restaurant in town tonight (our hotel is about 2km from the main part of Lovina) and I had a seafood platter. It had calamari, shrimp on a skewer as well as tuna and red snapper. The shrimp and the red snapper still had their heads and tails attached. Normally this would bother me, but I have become accustomed to it already and it doesn’t phase me anymore. There are geckos crawling up the posts and walls hunting for their dinner and mosquitoes hovering and waiting to take a bite of us for their dinner. It’s hot even at night here with the thick humidity so it’s either cover up your skin with sticky repellant or cover it with clothing. I chose repellant. Seems to work.
So far riding bikes has been such a great way to travel (thanks Andrea and Peter for the inspiration!). It’s very hot during the day, but biking makes our own wind and keeps us cool. When we stop for a rest we actually are hotter than if we keep on pedaling and the sweat pours off of us like rain. It’s not too bad though. I’m still enjoying the heat as I haven’t felt this hot for so long. Sometimes Kirk and I feel like two pieces of bacon out there in a frying pan though. So far we’ve both suffered some intense sunburns. It’s strange because I can’t feel my skin burning here like I can in Colorado and we were burned on heavily clouded days. I have a feeling we’re going to have some serious farmer tans when we get home. We’ve been riding in long sleeves and with sunscreen on, but the tan lines are appearing nonetheless (on Kirk anyway…mine are more like burns and then freckle lines…ahhh the blessing of the piglet skin of a redhead!).
The main form of transport here is bemos (small vans with bench seats that are used as buses), small motorcycles, and cars. It’s very interesting how much they can pack on a motorcycle. They either load them up with people (we’ve seen 4 people on one small motorcycle) or they load them up with things. We’ve seen people carrying big stacks of wood, tire tubes, large baskets, long logs, petrol, tools, bags of rice, boxes, you name it. Very few people use bicycles, but we do see them occasionally. Kirk and I thought our loads were heavy….but nothing in comparison to the way they can load some of the bikes here. They have large boxes that are used like saddlebags and they also stack a wall of boxes behind their backs. It’s pretty amazing considering the bikes they are using have very few gears. The women here walk along the roads in their traditional clothing and carry large baskets on their heads. They balance some very heavy loads as well, which is remarkable.
Riding along some of the things I notice are the lovely butterflies frequently crossing our path, the smell of green thick in the air, occasionally big whiffs of exhaust from the trucks passing, extraordinary landscapes of rice paddies, chickens, roosters and baby chicks dotting the sides of the roads in front of houses and shacks, people walking along the roadside in bare feet and those are just to name a few.
We are having a lovely time and a valuable experience. I would highly recommend Bali as a place to cycle tour to anyone! We feel very safe in our travels so far because the Balinese are very friendly and helpful and seem intrigued with tourists. It is a wonderful place to be!
Walking off the plane onto the walkway….hot hot hot and the air thick with humidity. This is a welcome change from the cooler temperatures in NZ and OZ. Walking out of the airport into the Bali world….tropical…palm trees line the street…people see you are white and persistently approach you for hiring them for transport.
Kuta Beach….very busy with traffic and people, westernized, a scattering of tourists but probably nothing in comparison to the days before the bombing. We found out we were staying about a block from Ground Zero, which made me a little nervous. Vendors, vendors everywhere soliciting us for places to stay, motorbike hire and transport. More vendors are in the outdoor type strip malls along every road selling sarongs, jewelry, beachwear, food, etc. It really wasn’t so different than a beach town in the states. It made me sad that the Western influence sucked out the culture of this area and replaced it with malls, shops, restaurants and hotels.
The roads are busy with small motorcycles and cars, but the pace is slow. They are very conscientious drivers for the most part and if someone is coming up behind you they give a little “toot” of their horn to let you know they are passing. We heard a lot of toots as we rode along which is a nice change from the full on road rage horns that are used back in the States. The traffic in Denpasar was a little intimidating at times. We were navigating with a map, but found out that it wasn’t that great. The road signs aren’t posted very often or very well and the names of the roads seem to change from one block to the next. It was very confusing. Eventually we made it to the main road we were looking for to take us to Ubud, but that seemed like a little bit of luck mixed with a decent idea of the direction we should be traveling.
Ubud was a nice relaxed little arty town. We enjoyed the slower pace of life there and the culture oozing out of everything and everyone. It was such a pleasure to see the Bali that everyone had told us about. This is where I started to realize that maybe the South Pole really was worth every minute after all.
The road from Ubud to the hot springs at Mt. Batur was full of interesting things. The people watching us ride by with curiosity as they carved, swept or hid from the heat in their roadside shelters. Sometimes they would yell “hallo”, “where you go?” or whistle or say something in Balinese. The children were very entertaining as they would get excited and scream “hallo” at us many times over and over and wave. If we stopped for a rest and there were children close by they would gather around our bikes and thoroughly inspect them all the while smiling and giggling with their friends.
The rice paddies with the people working in them look surreal almost like moving paintings. I feel so lucky to be here!
The poverty of some of these people is very apparent as we ride by their shacks with their tattered clothing lying in the bushes to dry in the sun. We stopped at a little stand about halfway to Ubud looking for a cold drink. A refrigerator caught Kirk’s eye in their very simple and small stand so the couple in it sold us two cold Sprites and a bowl of soup for Kirk. The woman was sitting at a sewing machine sewing together the holes in a ratty t-shirt. They seemed so happy to have us there.
Further up the road we came upon a man just peeing on the side of the road. I guess that’s what they do here because shortly after that we came upon another man doing the same and not being shy about it at all as cars, motorcycles and us on bikes whizzed by (well, we weren’t whizzing really…more like panting by) a couple feet away.
When we reached the top of the hill at Penelokan we were hot, tired and sweaty and I nearly averted a meltdown as I was having flashbacks of the hill in NZ. Thankfully there was an end to this hill and the incline wasn’t nearly as bad. We had a swarm of people meet us at the top of the hill with questions, wanting to sell us things and checking out our bikes. We were pretty overwhelmed. We have learned a lot on this trip so far about bartering, what things should cost, what to say, who to ask for help, etc. and I’m quite sure we will continue to learn more about the society here every day until we leave.
The hot springs was like a little oasis in a ghost town waiting for tourists. Several places to stay had shut down and we had very few to choose from. Thankfully we stumbled upon a very nice woman who helped us and took us to a home stay. Both the woman and the people at the home stay were so gracious and kind to us. They seemed to really enjoy our presence and individually told us how their town has suffered since the bombings. They haven’t seen a single tourist in the last two weeks and that is why they were grateful to have us. It is really sad because so far I would have to say that Bali is the most amazing place I have ever been. It truly is like waking up in a postcard everyday. One of the greatest pleasures so far has been talking with the locals because it has left such a great impression on both Kirk and I. We are learning so much about their way of life and their struggles to make money. It can be heartbreaking.
The 40K ride from Penulisan to Singaraja was pretty fast since it was all downhill. I realized that I needed to be more careful because at the start of our ride I accidentally went off the side of the road into the small patch of rocky terrain adjacent to it. My bicycle jumped out from underneath me and I managed to land on my feet with my toes hanging over the edge of a steep ravine. I thankfully caught my balance while adrenaline was shooting through my veins. That could have been quite a disaster! Especially because Kirk was ahead of me enough to not see or hear me fall. Whew! I’m glad that turned out okay. The temperature at the top was nice and cool but heated up the closer we came to Singaraja. We had to stop several times so Kirk could clear his nose and try to unplug his ears due to his sinus infection. We also stopped a couple of times to shake our hands out. Holding the brakes for that long makes the blood feel like it is no longer in your hands and they cramp a lot. The hillsides were dotted with small houses among lush green as far as the eye could see. It was a pleasant ride.
Singaraja was an active town with buzzing traffic and people everywhere. We happened to find a doctor’s office as we were in search of the local hospital in order to get Kirk some antibiotics. There were a couple of teenage boys that were inside the building and they opened up the window to talk to me while I watched the bikes on the sidewalk. They spoke a few words of English and asked me for cigarettes, snacks and money. I’m pretty sure they were also making fun of my cycling shorts because they pointed and giggled a lot. Remembering that I had a gutter brain myself as a teenager, I laughed along with them.
Lovina Beach was only 8K from Singaraja and looks a lot like Kuta Beach, but with less people, shops and tourists. We were once again bombarded as we rode to the beach just to check it out. We have to take it all with a grain of salt as this is these people’s livelihood to sell items to tourists. They also explained to us that they haven’t had many tourists in the last few weeks. Kirk and I wish that we could help every one of them, but we just can’t. The waiter who served us dinner at our hotel last night told us that he makes the equivalent of $50 USD a month and he works 6 days a week, 8 hours a day with no paid vacation. He said he lives in a boarding house with his wife and kids with an outdoor bathroom for $15 a month so by the time he buys petrol and food he just isn’t making enough money. He said he would really like to travel like we are and his dream is to make enough money to buy some land and build a house for his family. Ugh…so heartbreaking!!! If anything I have come to realize just how wealthy and fortunate we are in comparison to so many in the world. The bicycles, gear and clothing we have are more than these people could probably ever afford in their lifetimes. It’s mind blowing. Especially when you consider that Kirk and I are living off about $35 USD a day for the both of us which includes food, lodging and incidentals and these people make about $50 USD a month to support their families! That makes us feel like we’re pretty much living high on the hog.
We ate at a restaurant in town tonight (our hotel is about 2km from the main part of Lovina) and I had a seafood platter. It had calamari, shrimp on a skewer as well as tuna and red snapper. The shrimp and the red snapper still had their heads and tails attached. Normally this would bother me, but I have become accustomed to it already and it doesn’t phase me anymore. There are geckos crawling up the posts and walls hunting for their dinner and mosquitoes hovering and waiting to take a bite of us for their dinner. It’s hot even at night here with the thick humidity so it’s either cover up your skin with sticky repellant or cover it with clothing. I chose repellant. Seems to work.
So far riding bikes has been such a great way to travel (thanks Andrea and Peter for the inspiration!). It’s very hot during the day, but biking makes our own wind and keeps us cool. When we stop for a rest we actually are hotter than if we keep on pedaling and the sweat pours off of us like rain. It’s not too bad though. I’m still enjoying the heat as I haven’t felt this hot for so long. Sometimes Kirk and I feel like two pieces of bacon out there in a frying pan though. So far we’ve both suffered some intense sunburns. It’s strange because I can’t feel my skin burning here like I can in Colorado and we were burned on heavily clouded days. I have a feeling we’re going to have some serious farmer tans when we get home. We’ve been riding in long sleeves and with sunscreen on, but the tan lines are appearing nonetheless (on Kirk anyway…mine are more like burns and then freckle lines…ahhh the blessing of the piglet skin of a redhead!).
The main form of transport here is bemos (small vans with bench seats that are used as buses), small motorcycles, and cars. It’s very interesting how much they can pack on a motorcycle. They either load them up with people (we’ve seen 4 people on one small motorcycle) or they load them up with things. We’ve seen people carrying big stacks of wood, tire tubes, large baskets, long logs, petrol, tools, bags of rice, boxes, you name it. Very few people use bicycles, but we do see them occasionally. Kirk and I thought our loads were heavy….but nothing in comparison to the way they can load some of the bikes here. They have large boxes that are used like saddlebags and they also stack a wall of boxes behind their backs. It’s pretty amazing considering the bikes they are using have very few gears. The women here walk along the roads in their traditional clothing and carry large baskets on their heads. They balance some very heavy loads as well, which is remarkable.
Riding along some of the things I notice are the lovely butterflies frequently crossing our path, the smell of green thick in the air, occasionally big whiffs of exhaust from the trucks passing, extraordinary landscapes of rice paddies, chickens, roosters and baby chicks dotting the sides of the roads in front of houses and shacks, people walking along the roadside in bare feet and those are just to name a few.
We are having a lovely time and a valuable experience. I would highly recommend Bali as a place to cycle tour to anyone! We feel very safe in our travels so far because the Balinese are very friendly and helpful and seem intrigued with tourists. It is a wonderful place to be!
posted by Kirk & Jodi Roberts at 11:31 PM
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