Another Day In Paradise
Being away with a group of girls, there’s one thing we all have in common…we like a good chat. In my experience, there can often seem like there are not enough hours in the day to sit and chat. It would seem obvious then, that these chats can sometimes continue on well into the wee hours of the morning, which is what happened last night…er, this morning. Suzie, Amanda and Ann-Maree chatted until 3am and were looking a little worse for wear by the time they emerged out from under their mosquito nets to eat their banana pancakes. Rubbing their eyes and moving in slow-mo towards the car this morning, our driver Wayan gave them a knowing wink and said: “ooh too much Bintang last night, no?” Well not exactly. Actually it was just cups of tea and an important planning meeting for our future blockbuster Hollywood movie: The Bali Belles and the Stolen Credit Card.
Not to usurp the important role of Miss Indonesia in any way, Wayan had become our unofficial travel guide, giving us suggestions of things we might like to see and do while we are here. He’d told us about a fantastic beach in Nusu Dua where we’d be able to swim and snorkel with turtles and had talked it up, to the point where we were all quite excited, envisaging up-close-and-personal encounters with these huge ancient creatures of the sea, swishing through unspoilt, crystal clear waters, the golden sand beneath us. It was quite a let down then when we arrived at our destination. The 50 tour buses out the front did seem to jar with the experience we’d been anticipating and should have alerted us to what we were about to walk into. Even so, I don’t think any of us were prepared for the scene that greeted us when we hit the beach. It was PACKED! Talk about commotion in the ocean! There were hoards of people swarming the sand with noisy power boats zigzagging along the waves, barely missing one another as they zoomed past; banana boats whooshing by; parasailers filling the sky. We were ushered into a waiting corral and seated at a table, looking at each other with confused faces. Amanda took the reins and using her impressive Indonesian translation powers, demanded answers. The look on her face was priceless when she repeated loudly, “the turtles are in CAGES??” This was just not what we’d expected. We made an executive decision (we’re all executives here) to go somewhere else and explained to Wayan that we wanted to go somewhere a little quieter. That was an understatement.
As always, Miss Indonesia came up with a brilliant suggestion. Apparently, the resorts in Bali are happy for visitors to use their facilities for the day, as long as they purchase food and drinks there. Awesome! We were dropped off at one end of a strip of big resorts on the beach. Unlike the beach near our villa, this beach had pristine white sand and the line-up of sparkling resort pools, comfortable cushioned banana lounges and landscaped tropical gardens was dazzling. We devised a rating system to help us decide which resort we’d park our bikinis in but it was so darn hot and those pools looked so inviting that we settled for the second one we saw!
The thing we’ve noticed here is that there’s never really a time when you’re dry. The humidity is
unbelievable! You can get out of the shower or pool, go through the motions of towelling yourself down, only to find that as soon as you’ve finished, you’re wet again! The sun is hot but there’s no drying in the air. A wet towel can hang out in the direct sun for an hour but it just won’t dry because it’s so humid; very different to the bite of the drying Australian sun.
The Peninsula Resort – which it turns out was actually a time share facility – was happy to have us as their guests. This really was paradise. Set on the threshold of the warm white sand, with frangipani trees, coconut-laden palm trees, manicured tropical gardens, waiter service by the perfectly-temperatured pool and broad-brimmed umbrellas, it was certainly not a bad place to kick back for the morning! We settled in, munching on snacks of calamari and sipping on ice cold libations from the grass-roofed bar. We even indulged in some poolside pedicures. This is the life!
Out on the beach, the occasional speed boat would zoom past but every now and then something huge, that looked like a giant flying lilo would appear in the sky and it seemed like the same man was riding it every time! At first we were perplexed. What was that thing? It was way up! Keryn is our resident adrenaline junkie and could no longer resist the urge to go and check this thing out. She and Amanda went to investigate but discovered it was not as fun as they had first thought. The rider is strapped down, face up, while the guy who looked like he was having so much fun, held the reins and stood above you. We told Keryn she simply needed to get a job there if she was going to get the experience she wanted!
After our relaxation tanks had been filled somewhat, we called on Wayan to take us out to Uluwatu where we planned to watch the sunset above the famous surf spot. It’s funny how we’ve become accustomed now to the crazy traffic that had almost given us a collective cardiac arrest on our first day here. Packs of mopeds weaving in and out of lanes, almost touching vans, trucks and buses on frighteningly narrow roads, passing on blind corners and pulling out repeatedly into oncoming traffic, not an indicator in sight. It is amazing how now it’s just like water off a duck’s back.
Arriving at the temple at Uluwatu at dusk we were issued with our regulation sarongs. Once we were suitably decked out we were warned repeatedly over the loudspeaker to remove our sunglasses and secure any belongings that a cheeky monkey might be enticed to pilfer. Contrary to the many warnings, the monkeys were few and far between and no-one lost so much as a bobby pin.
From the edge of the walled 11th Century temple, we had uninterrupted views of the beautiful little cove below, surrounded by soaring vertical cliff faces on either side, topped with green, and as the sun sank towards the horizon it cast a golden glow over the lines of swell rolling in, the temple roof top silhouetted on the precipice against the orange sky.
With grumbling tummies – from hunger, not Bali belly – we once more climbed aboard Wayan’s van in search of some sustenance. Miss Indonesia had a destination in mind for us and when we’d been driving for around half an hour, she carefully ventured: “Wayan, are we still heading to Jimbaran Bay?” Wayan swiftly replied that we were about one and a half hours away which was met with hunger-induced gasps all the way to the backseat. He then piped up that he was only kidding and we’d be there in five minutes! He’s such a joker!
Jimbaran Bay was incredible! As we entered the beach we were greeted with a panorama of exceptional beauty as clusters of candlelit tables sat nestled right on the sand. Music filled the warm air and a gentle warm breeze washed across us from the dark sea beyond. Famous for its just-caught seafood, the menu boasted all kinds of fish which were pulled out of ice buckets right before our eyes and thrown onto the flaming grill, sizzling and smoking into the night sky, to be served with your choice of sumptuous sauce.
A Balinese quartet, complete with Ketut-style hats and consisting of a bongo player, 2 guitarists and a double bass player that was a good 30 years older than the other band members, were romancing the diners a table at a time, playing covers of Western pop songs and singing lyrics they clearly didn’t understand. They were hilarious! When it was our turn, they asked us for requests. Unfortunately Cold Chisel wasn’t in their repertoire so we settled for their pick, the Proclaimers’ “500 Miles”, getting everyone toe-tapping and vocal, rousing the crowd from their quiet romantic moods. They had a touch of the Wiggles about them a du rged on by our cheering they gave us a special TWO more songs! “Let It Be” was a crowd sing-a-long favourite but they cracked us up when the lead singer sang loudly “…CHAIR will be an answer, let it be, let it be…”
Speaking of chairs, I had a little trouble with mine. The table had originally been set with all the chairs facing the ocean but we decided to move around the table to help facilitate conversation. The conversation was helped sure enough but the angle of the beach and the way I was sitting meant the plastic chair legs sank into the soft sand and in a flash, my chair did a spectacular backflip, sending me flying backwards and leaving me sprawled upside-down on the shoreline, sand in every orifice! Even I admit, it did look pretty funny.
Our food was really delicious and obviously fresh, the only complaint being a few too many bones – clearly the fish’s anatomy was to blame. It was an experience we were very glad not to have missed. By the time we crawled back under the crisp white sheets at our villa four-poster beds we were very ready for a sound slumber!
