The morning dawned overcast and slightly muggy. It had rained the night before and the moisture was still hugging the land like some light throw rug.
I got up and went for an early-morning swim and then cranked up the ancient jug so it would slowly boil water while I had a hot shower. Then I sat on my verandah and had a cup of tea while the sun rose. I wandered up for breakfast about 8am and had my Nasi Goreng, fruit juice and tea.
Feeling more comfortable and relaxed, I was regretting booking a tour. I had been recommended a taxi driver from a friend of mine but had tried to ring him and only got his answering machine. I'd left a message but it was in English so who knows how successful I'd been.
When I'd booked the tour the day before, the man hadn't spoken any English so I had no idea what would show up (or if it would show up at all). I had a nightmare scenario of an air-conditioned coach with 30 people in it so I was pleasantly surprised when a 4WD drove up with only four other tourists in it.
We took off first to the Goa Gajah (the Elephant Cave Temple) where we bought a sarong. Covering the legs is necessary to enter all the temples for both women and men and, even though Goa Gajah had sarongs to borrow, I decided to buy a lovely batik one for 100,000 so I'd have one for all the temples we were going to.
There's a long stone stairway down to Goa Gajah through what I can only describe as lush rainforest. At the bottom, there was a temple where I stopped for a moment to take stock of this quiet and extraordinary place. The history of Goa Gajah is somewhat of a mystery. Guide books, websites and locals contradict each other but as far as I can gather, the cave was re-discovered in 1928 and is thought to date back to the 11th century.
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| Photo: View of Goa Gajah from the top of the hill |
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| Photo: Grounds of Goa Gajah |
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| Photo: Grounds of Goa Gajah |
The cave itself is small and contains statues of Ganesha and Vishna. Built around it are the temple buildings and a sacred bathing pool.
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| Photo: Elephant cave entrance |
There are more temples and shrines scattered throughout the forest but while we were down there the skies opened up and we got a monsoonal downpour that soaked us to the skin. I sheltered in the main temple for a while and then scooted back up the stairs and into our car.
The rain continued to pour through our second stop was Tempak Siring (The Holly Spring Temple), probably my most enjoyable stop in the tour because there were a large contingent of worshippers there bathing in the main pool and giving offerings to the Gods.
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| Photo: Supplicants waiting to bathe in the sacred water |
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| Photo: Bathing in the sacred waters |
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| Photo: Bathing in the sacred waters |
There's something more powerful about seeing the vibrant chaotic activity of religion in a place rather than lonely empty buildings devoid of life. I could have stayed here a longer time as I enjoyed simply watching the supplicants.
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| Photo: Making an offering at Holly Springs |
After the Holly Spring Temple, we visited the coffee plantation where we toured the grounds and did a tasting. They did have lovely tea and coffee, including the colloquial
"poo poo coffee" that is made by gathering the coffee grounds from the excrement of a Luwark (Asian Palm Civet).
It was still raining as we drove through the mountains and, unfortunately, it meant that our view of Mount Batur and Lake Batur was mostly a view of clouds with a few small rice paddies visible through the haze. Lunch was next though and we went to Bukit Jambul for a lovely buffet lunch and a fantastic view of agricultural rice paddies.
And finally, Besakih! The largest temple in Bali, also full of supplicants today, and an attractive Hindu temple. Not as enjoyable as Holly Spring but still very worthwhile and there were some lovely views from the top.
I will say, however, that Besakih was full of far more touts, local 'guides' and, most annoyingly, so-called temple keepers who offer to take you into the central area (reserved for worshippers) for a donation. I turned them all down and recommend other people do too. Our driver told us that there were "no good people" at Besakih. I'm inclined to agree.
Of course, compared to the hassle of India, this was nothing. In fact, I'd go so far as to describe Bali as being a lot like India but with sane people. It's India-lite in many ways and I found the relaxed prosperity of the locals far easier to deal with than their mad Indian counterparts.
After Besakih, we went to Klungkung to see the Old Court Justice of the Klungkun Kingdom and then drove back to Ubud for cocktails and some tapas. Then I and a Danish tourist named Jacob went to see the dancing. And I'll tell you all about that in my next post.
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| Photo: Klungkung |
