My last day in Bali was a bit of anti-climax. There were no tours I wanted to take, so the plan was to have a late breakfast, enjoy the hotel pool until it was time to check-out, leave my luggage with the concierge, and spend the day in a shopping centre, out of the heat, until time to go to the airport for the evening flight.
Either due to incompetence or sabotage, the first two Grab drivers couldn't find me. However the third was a good driver and even waited for me outside a hotel when I thought he would drive past on the street.
The mall was called Discovery. It was a weird kind of place. It wasn't airconditioned throughout, parts of it were exposed to warm air from the outside.
It had a couple of anchor tenants, Sogo and Parkson.
On the top floor there was a Chinese cafeteria but the prices were high. However it indicated that more tourists were coming from China now. On the way to the mall we had passed several Chinese restaurants. I suppose no different from other tourists expecting steak houses and pubs in foreign countries.
There was a smattering of smaller stalls. I had no interest in buying any of the stuff. I had a lunch here, an afternoon refreshment and by about 1630, decided to get a Grab car to return to the hotel to collect my luggage and take a taxi to the airport. By pure coincidence the driver who took my request for the return trip was the same one.
Bali's Ngurah Rai airport is a mess. You have to pass security to reach the check-in counters. I made the mistake of ordering food at a restaurant outside check-in. It was one of the most incompetent dishes I've had. Later on I found out that there were other eateries after customs. I couldn't even find the restaurant listed on Tripadvisor to post warning advice.
Epilogue: The warnings for Mount Agung were downgraded after my trip, but of course the volcano will erupt again some day, years or decades from now.
For my last night in Bali I had picked a mid-range hotel to pamper myself. It was a step up from the guesthouses. Firstly in the more luxurious bathroom.
Then a very comfortable bed, though the guesthouse beds were quite adequate.
It had a pool which the guesthouses didn't. And the breakfast was generous.
A welcome plate of fruit was in the room on arrival, and in the evening, a couple of pastries were given as a present. The fruit with the scaly looking skin was one I had not seen before. A search showed that it was a salak, and it tasted a bit like a dry apple. The other two are an orange (green) and a pear.
I had decided upon a Mexican dinner in the next suburb, Kuta, and I took the beach road there. Unfortunately I had missed the sunset. There were some tables set on the beach. I can see the attraction of Bali, having torchlit dinner on the beach on a cool tropical evening.
Here you see typical Bali stepped stone façades. Very elaborate.
If you don't want to swim in the sea, resorts like these have pools and gardens. Just the thing for a pampered holiday.
Here is my dinner burrito. It was adequate, though the price was starting to approach Australian levels. Apparently the owners are Australian.
I walked back to the hotel along the shopping streets of Legian.
My last morning in Ubud, time to go back to the coast. Since Grab car drivers were not welcome in Ubud (there were signs banning share car services), I had to hire a regular taxi or take a shuttle. I asked the guesthouse to arrange a shuttle for me. The earliest one could come was 12:30.
I went looking for lunch in the town and explored the east end of the main drag. Not much there except this fancy roundabout.
Eventually I found a small warung on the same lane where I had bought a postcard at a bookshop and sent it off at the post office opposite. It was run by friendly women and made small meals. I ordered some spring rolls with a bottle of a local tea soda, Tebs. The rolls didn't disappoint, they were freshly made on their tiny stove.
Durians always generated mixed feelings. I was pleased to see them but sad that I could not buy and consume any. I had no way to open them and they would be unwelcome in any lodging.
As it turned out the shuttle was about 45 minutes late, probably due to arriving passengers. While waiting outside the guesthouse, I watched this lanky chicken saunter all over the street and help itself to some water from the flower offering outside the premises.
The ride to the lowlands was unremarkable. I was dropped of in the centre of Kuta where taxi drivers immediately swarmed around me. I had a cool ice coffee in a nearby café and on leaving, called a Grab car to take me to my chosen hotel.
The other organised activity I had signed up for in Bali was an e-bike ride around Ubud. This was the closest thing I could get to a Segway tour, which I had been made an addict of a couple of years ago on Malta.
I was picked up by the company's van outside the corner café and we were taken to the company's premises outside Ubud. After a um, crash course, we were off. The motor housing is protected by plastic in this photo.
It's a normal bike for pedalling purposes but when you need a boost or want to go faster, you just press a lever under the left thumb and the motor kicks in.
We took the main road and then turned off into the paddy field paths.
There were two guides, one leader and someone at the back to look out for problems. There was also a bike carrier following us in case of bike breakdown.
At this stop, the guide explained the typical Balinese family structure. Plots are often subdivided for the sons in a family so they are often small. Somehow everybody knows where the boundaries are. The gadget in the photo is a mechanical scarecrow.
Bananas growing on the margins.
We stopped at a typical Balinese temple for an explanation of Balinese religion. Apparently there are 40,000 on the island. There are three parts to a temple corresponding to the Hindu trinity: Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. When three are complete they may go on to build another three parts. Not necessarily in a different compound but another subdivision.
Bends in the path look like this.
Another photo opportunity stop.
This is a scenic spot chosen by the tourism industry for a stereotypical view of terraced paddy fields. It's very green and lush, you have to admit.
It has a café, of course.
The view to the left.
The final stop of our ride was a coffee roaster, which sold luwak (civet) coffee. It commands a premium because the journey of the beans through the civet's digestive system is supposed to modify the taste. We were offered a tasting paddle of various flavoured coffees but luwak coffee was extra. I decided to pay (about $5) to have a cup. It did taste smoother but it's not something I would hanker after.
Luwaks are called toddy cats but are not felines. They do look like funky cats though.
There is a glass bottom platform for viewing the paddy fields.
And off to one side is a swing where other tourists got their thrills dangling at great height.
After returning the bikes we finished with a dinner (included in the tour) at a local restaurant.
The Grab car driver had told me that I should try babi guling, roast sucking pig, a speciality of Bali. So I consulted the Internet which recommended a place about 200m north of the main street. On the way I encountered a religious procession, probably worshippers leaving services. In their Sunday best, of course.
The restaurant was a simple affair, they were chopping up the pig downstairs while take-away customers waited for their order. Upstairs there were two floors of seating. I ordered a roast pork combo and a beer and went upstairs to wait. When it arrived it looked like this. Along with slices of roast pork were crackling, grilled entrails, blood sausage and condiments, one or two of which were incendiary. It was alright, but the pork was not as tender as I had hoped.
On the top floor I got cooling breezes and views of flowering trees, one a frangipani.
This was the other. I don't know it. I really need a What's That Flower webpage.
In the morning, after breakfast, I walked down the road to the Monkey Forest. It's where you can get to see lots and lots of crab eating macaques. Despite the name, crab is not the main item in their diet. They are probably the monkeys of my childhood in SEA.
There are a few entrances to the forest. I went for the main entrance where there are statues of Balinese mythical beasts. Bali produces a lot of statuary, many of Hindu derivation but also Buddhist.
I have to say the detail is very elaborate. Architect is a highly regarded profession. On the thousands (yes, you read that right) of temples on Bali you will see bricks set in a stepped pattern creating a edged relief effect.
Famous saying.
Visitors can buy bananas to feed the macaques. They are used to humans thus unafraid to approach or even clamber over you.
There is a list of dos and don'ts posted. One should not carry bags or the macaques may search them for food. They might even search your pockets if they think you have food. When they take the food, one should not hang on to it at the risk of being bitten. Also one should not stare or they may feel threatened. And feeding them junk food is forbidden.
Quite long tails.
Busy eating.
A father saw this and said to his kids, look, a durian. I had to disappoint them, it was actually a jackfruit or possibly a cempedak, a relative. He did know about pungent smell of the durian though.
These macaques are enjoying a water hole.
This one was trying to open a nut by repeatedly hitting it on the ground. Perhaps done in water to help soften the shell. I don't know if it succeeded.
Mother (I assume) and child.
Pura is Balinese for temple.
They spend a lot of time grooming each other.
Ahhh, a little further down, yesss.
A stream flows through the sanctuary.
There was a bit of commotion around the bridge. Apparently a macaque was trying to fish a banana out of a tourist's pocket. A sanctuary worker was shouting, give it to him, give it to him. The tourist could have been scratched or bitten if he had resisted. Here's the culprit with its gains.
Tourists like to pose with macaques on their shoulders, bribed with food, of course.
Yes, that's where it itches.
At the other entrance/exit.
Walking up the very touristy street back to my guesthouse.
