Finding Nemo

We have a total of just over 3 weeks at Bingin which becomes two then one and before we know it its our last night in our little ‘Villa’. The morning arrives and with teary goodbyes our procession of bags and porters ascend the cliffs to Ketut our driver. We are headed for Tamarind a resort on Nusa Lembongan, a smallish island south of Bali for some more SURF and snorkeling. Ketut takes us to Sanur our departure point to the island, its hot, confusing and crazy busy. After so many weeks of living somewhere permanent it’s a bit of a shock to be in ‘Ops Mode’ again, Nicky sits on the pile of bags and surfboards and with a resigned look on his face says “Dad I don’t know if I want to be doing this”.

We are pounced on by 5 touts offering various options on reaching our island when completely to our surprise we see a man approaching waving a placard with CRAIG KILLEEN written on. Rescued we follow him down the beach and there purring in the silky sea is our ‘ride’, a super sexy fast looking craft with Tamarind written on the side. Powerful engines fire up and we are soon pounding through deep blue sea towards our destination.

The island feel reaches out to us, reggae music wafts across the water and Blackie the resort owner and his smily staff are all waiting thigh deep in the breakers to carry our bags and boards onto the beach and into our new home,. The resort consists of five bungalows and a pool bar area right on the water and is empty other than a pretty Dutch Girl who immediately becomes part of our family (much to Bills delight). I think she is super relieved that we have arrived as this is a small island with nothing other than a few resorts, bars and warungs.

First things first, I set off down the road to the village to find a scooter when Ketut drives up, “want a ride to town” he says, “no thanks” I reply “I want to rent a scooter’. “You can rent mine if you can drop me back at work first”. I ask for paperwork, he laughs and says just return it when you have finished, you can leave the keys with anyone here if I am not around.

Blackie organizes his cousin Made to take us snorkeling on his fishing boat which is a brightly colored trimarang. Made is a cheerful fellow flashing big gums and buckteeth. We hug the coast passing forests, cliffs and bays, seaweed farming is the main source of income and the bays are laced with seaweed farms consisting of underwater netting fences from which the seaweed is harvested.

We arrive at our first dive spot called Gamut Bay and a new world is discovered. All 5 of us go under and come up screaming spontaneously with delight. We feel like we are in inside Finding Nemo – in an Imax theatre with surround sound. A feast of colors, forests of coral, bright sand and deep blue crevasses open up. We found Dory ( just keep swimming , just keep swimming) but Nemo was nowhere to be found. Nicky and I (Lou) decided all we were missing was the turtles saying “woooowwwww this is incredible hurry up guys surfs up !!!!” Nicky, Bill and Lou feed the fish with bread and there is underwater giggling going on as swarms of fish nibble our fingers. They all have there own personality depending on their colors and the coral they hang out in.

There are three surfing options near us - Playground, Shipwreck and aptly named Lacerations. Playground is a 400 m paddle away from our resort, through anchored boats and buoys and becomes our wave of choice. It’s a user friendly left and right break that works for both Bill and I, what better than to have your son paddling out with you in time to watch the sun rise?

This was probably the best surfing overall, like the name suggests playground is less hardcore and I can feel more like a big fish in a small pond. The most outstanding memory of the trip for me has got to be paddling out as the sun rises each morning and then catching wave after glassy wave but more than just a wave experiencing the sensation of flying over crystal clear water and seeing every detail of the magnificent world below!

Zen and the Art of Surfing

I started surfing relatively late in life, I had always dreamt about it and woke up on my fortieth birthday thinking that if I don't start now I am gong to have to surf in another life, I decided to make it this one and bought a surfboard. For the last few years I have been surfing on and off, probably more off than on. Surfing in the Cape is challenging, its mostly freezing cold especially after a good blow from the Cape Doctor, the wind is often onshore mushing up the surf and then there are flat days. Good days of swell coinciding with my being in town and having time on my hands have been fairly few and far between.

Every surfers dream is to have a month or more on an island with good waves, warm water and lots of time. So here we are in Bali certainly one of the best surfing venues in the world living that dream.

Not all waves are the same, in fact there are as many different waves as there are surfing spots in the world and each one presents its own challenges. Further each wave is affected by the tide, swell and wind direction, the period between waves and of course swell size. I realize very quickly that the breaks around Bingin where we are based are not for beginners by any means and almost all of them (other than Dreamland) break onto very shallow reef.

The Bali tattoo is evident everywhere, surfers walking around nursing nasty scrapes and gashes across backs, arms, legs, faces, heads. The standard of surfing is high and unlike a friendly easy break like Muizenberg or Big Bay the points are crowded, surfers are from all over the world and its each man for themselves -you snooze you lose.

I am here to learn so sit out at the backline and observe the good surfers.

Firstly you need to be really fit to paddle into waves and catch them and even more so to paddle out after catching them pushing under endless foamies. I realize I am paddling all over the place backwards and forwards, in and out wasting energy, often being caught by the big sets. I am also allowing others surfers to hustle into position past me.

The good guys don't, they paddle out and take a key position refusing to allow other surfers to hustle them out of it. They have patience and don't waste energy chasing after smaller waves and consequently are ready when the big set arrives. More though they seem to intuitively know where that position is and when the big set is coming. When it does they choose their wave and then have the confidence to commit 100% and squeeze all the juice out of it.

I decide to practice this philosophy in business and have a feeling that by doing this I will have a lot more time for surfing.

I make some surfing buddies, Eric the local surfboard hire man from Dreamland is a gem that shows me around and we shared a few Bintangs on the beach with the local boys. I meet a few South Africans and lots of Europeans; of course there are loads of Australians but its weird that Aussie - South African rivalry extends to surfing as well, so not many mates there. Special thanks to Andre a Brazilian now based in France who surfs all over the world. One morning he pulls me out of my comfort zone and we go out at Uluwatu.

This feels like the big time, the cliffs are lined with professional photographers, surf shops; look out points, bronzed surfers and striking woman.The paddle out is tricky with currents, reef, sets and surfers to avoid, There are three main breaks to choose from, the one we start at is called Peak and I catch my first wave which is snapped by one of the photographers (attached), the other breaks are called temple and railway tracks aptly named because it works at low over a shallow reef and you need to to go like a steam train to make it.

Another day when its really flat everywhere else we venture out at a place called Green Ball which is a magnificent bay at the bottom of 300 steps. We are the only ones out that day and I soon realize why, its a lot bigger and more powerful than it looks from the cliffs and with spring lows rapidly approaching when the wave sucks up the reef is knee height. There is something pioneering about surfing a new place for the first time, you are on your own and need to rely on your own observations and common sense.

I surf most days over 6 weeks and by the time we leave I am feeling fit and a little more confident in what I am doing (ready for Elands!!!). Yes there are crowds which can be a little frustrating but I am getting my fair share of waves. There are also days when I find secret places with only one or two other surfers, we sit out there in the early morning a couple of hundred meters from the shore as the sun rises enjoying each others companionable silence. Surrounded by nature one lives in the present, there is nothing else, horizons are limitless, you move with the ocean and in that movement you can feel the energy of the whole universe, that is Zen.

Paradise Found

Ketut arranged a stop over in Nusa Dua (a really touristy part of Bali) we checked in for 2 nights and began the search again.

The place in Nusa Dua is clean and respectable but the owner a Dutch guy is vile, he has 2 monkeys in a small cage, they have no food or water and they pace up and down on their pole all day, when I asked him why he never let them out, he said they were 2 vicious and naughty, - I wonder why?????, we were all tempted to let them free, the only thing stopping us is that they might attack us, we feed them fresh fruit and peanuts and they were very jittery, shame poor things there was also a bird – Indian Mynah who spoke in Dutch and made these shrill noises, Thank God we weren’t there for the holidays it was depressing.

We had had a week of limbo and from phoning around it seemed that what we were looking for was becoming impossible to find as season approached and it way beyond our budget. Ketut rented us his taxi and Craig and I set off again for the elusive dream. We had decided that Uluwatu the little nipple on the south of Bali is where we were headed and let the universe guide us. We took a few side roads and then ended up at this shop where we hopped out to ask if they knew of Villas for rent. We were directed vaguely through a field with beautiful cows and clinking bells and arrived at the top and saw a sign saying temple lodge and Marios left. (My chiropractor had told me about Mario and so we took it as a good omen and universal one too) We followed the signs and bumped in to Christiana, Mario’s wife who was on her way to the beach. We chatted – she didn’t remember Patrick the chiropractor- (it turns out she had been in SA at the time he stayed there, they are Italians who lived in Cape Town for 15 years) She directed us in the other direction for a villa and we eventually ended up at the car park for Bingin Beach.

We chatted to the locals who sent us Made (2nd child). Made was a skinny gorgeous tiny Balinese woman who whisked us through a labyrinth of paths down a steep cliff to a village of little warungs and beach villa’s (very simple, reminded us of what Clifton might have been like 50 years ago.

Craig was sooooo excited when we arrived at the cottage. It has 2 bedrooms upstairs with 2 bathrooms, a balcony with a view over the surf break and downstairs a simple kitchen (yes), a lovely chill out lounge with built in sofa with lots of cushions and our own little garden. It was exactly what we had been looking for.

Our Neighbour is a Frenchman married to a local with 2 little villas he rents out, a intimate little bar, sexy French music and a deck over the beach. We discover later that he makes the best fish barbecue ever.

We negotiate an excellent rate on a long rental and speed off home to tell the boys to pack up, we have found our Villa on the beach.

Moving to Medewi ........ and Back

We opt to call our driver Ketut to take us out to Medewi and pack up ready for the big move. There are no internet cafes in Medewi and so Craig has to stop somewhere on the way and try to connect his modem onto a local network which proves really tough and takes most of the morning of driving around, wasting time with Bali geeks, without Ketut it would have been impossible. Eventually Craig buys another modem, get it configured and off we go.

Next stop is provisions, Ketut who is showing incredible patience stops at Hardy’s, a local version of Shoprite. We have fun working out all the provisions needed for our trip with our taximan in tow pushing the trolley. Whilst eating lunch at a Warung Nicky discovers wonderland, a kids play emporium with a water slide – this child has the largest capacity for fun fun fun, we go and watch him hanging with the locals flying down the water slide.

We arrive at our new house a few hours later, the owner is nowhere to be found and has left us with 2 girls and a young man, none of who can speak a word of English. The girls are super shy, they giggle and look confused every time we try to communicate.

Craig organizes a scooter and promptly looses the paper work for the licence and then discovers even more frustratingly that there is no signal so no internet and the nearest internet café and any form of civilization is 40 minutes drive away.

That night the girls cook us dinner which is painfull. a really weird combination of sausages (eewww imagine whats in them), rice, prawns? Ugly looking sausages at that and salad with an instant Bali salad dressing. The owner still hasn’t arrived, in fact he never does so its really hard to try and make these girls understand that we want them to leave us alone to do our own thing.

Early next morning I (Craig) head for the break, which is what I came for right? Over night the swell has arrived and its humongous, I stand around nervously in the early morning light trying to figure the sets out and plan a route to paddle out. I watch 4 gnarly Aussies paddle out and they get pounded, eventually I follow a young local trying my hardest to keep up with him and manage to get out past the backline. I am now out and to be honest petrified, the waves are mountains and the surfers are unfriendly and all look like pro’s. My first wave is a disaster, I realize too late someone is already up and riding and drop in on a Frenchman, we collide and my skeg gashes his head. Whilst all this is going on the set of the day arrives and we are caught in front and I am pounded by wave after relentless wave. An hour later I make it back to the beach after cutting my leg open on jagged coral.

This is not working out too well, still we make the most of it, our surfer guide Harris takes Bill out at too more friendly break and he has his first surfing lesson. There is not much else to do but our Villa has a glorious pool and so Lou and the boys hang out there.

Next morning early I decide I have to get over this fear and go back out. Harris is with me this time and shows me the best way to get out to the backline, the swell is if anything bigger and I am thinking what the hell am I doing here. To non surfers the way it works is that the surfer closest to the point where the wave is breaking has the right of way and it’s a continual game jockeying for position. Harris takes me far out and I am thinking why so far when this set arrives blocking out the horizon, I look around and realize I am in position and everyone is watching me. Harris is shouting paddle paddle and proving beyond doubt that a males pride is far stronger than his sense of self preservation I paddle.

Next second I am up and dropping down the biggest wave I have ever caught….... ever.
I hit the bottom at speed, make the turn and settle into the wave. Medewi is regarded as the longest left in Bali and I am riding it, this smooth green wall of water that goes on and on for ever. I eventually kick out what seems like a kilometer away and begin the long paddle back out to the point with adrenalin pumping, grinning like a fool to big cheers from Harris. More waves follow and I think that this is all worth it.

Surf and sweeping vistas aside we last another two days and decide this is not for us. (Well lets face it Craig is getting a surf but with no internet connection he is a grumpy bear and not such fun for us) also we are in the middle of nowhere, the only way I (Lou) is going to get any company is to paddle out to the backline and make friends with Aussie surfers and as you all know me well, know I am more a yoga class, massage and glass of wine kind of girl.

We sms Ketut who arrives promptly the next morning to save the day, he negotiates a payoff to the scooter owner for losing the licence, a payoff for our surf coach Harris (what a gem) who we had booked to spend a week with Bill, payoff for the board and bootie rental and finally explain and cut a deal for the accommodation which has been booked for another week. Thank god for Ketut as he had to do the maths with the staff who had borrowed money from us to pay for the electricity……..it was all very complicated. But it was such a relief to leave, it was a wired place and the Aussie owner, well he was probably getting pissed somewhere and we found out he hadn’t paid his staff for 2 months (thank god we left them a tip too)

Anyway we are finally packed and hightail it out of there back to civilization.

Ubud UOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM

Setting off early in the morning the sun makes its presence felt through millions of sparkles reflecting off dewy leaves. Climbing aboard my newly rented scooter and wobbling down our bumpy driveway I enter the country lane and weave through dogs sprawled in the road oblivious to my concentration. Young men strut fussing over their prize roosters recovering from the previous night’s cockfighting. Different smells mark the progress, musty cow manure permeates the air, past lush green rice paddies ready for harvesting, laborers priming scarecrow cables to chase greedy birds. Turning left onto the main road I head down the dip into cool forested shady gloom, avoiding nasty potholes in the road I cross the river then full throttle and a burst of speed up the other side and into town. Villagers balancing fresh produce head to the market walking alongside children dressed in crisp white shirts for school. Streets rich with deeply Balinese architecture, thick green foliage, moss, pebbles, wood and glass. Smoky smell of incense permeates the air from ornate bamboo offering to the Hindu Gods. Trendy shops, Polo, Dolce, Gabana, Art Galleries meshed with local Bali life. Temples, monkeys, coconuts, warangs, scent of rough cut fresh timber, beautiful Bali girls on scooters. Left turn down the lane and Louise and I are at the Yoga barn ready to evolve……..“ like hey shew wow”, is not the phrase here, we are amongst the highly evolved beautiful people - more like “when I met the Dali Lama ………”

Ubud is our first stop in Bali and after Vietnam the Hindu influence is refreshing and very evident, its gentle presence setting the pace and mood. Our Canadian friends have organized a stylish introduction to Bali. Our home is exquisite and sets the mind buzzing once more on new ideas for creating living spaces back in SA. After the intense urbanization of the city of Saigon this oasis surrounded by fields and rural life is a treat. Our living spaces are open air, no concern for security but more for dealing with aesthetics and climate. On the first morning in the shower I reach down to grab my razor blade and instead almost grab a snake, who continues sliding over the rocks unperturbed. Frogs and geckos also share our space keeping the mosquitos at bay.

I have always seen images of rice paddies filled with water and people with pointy hats but now we are in the picture. One morning we walk along the thin ridges and examine a system perfected over the centuries, paddies separated by narrow hand packed clay ridges just wide enough to walk on, gravity fed channels for flooding the fields. We have eaten lots of rice throughout Asia and can’t seem to tire of it, its alkaline properties sooth the stomach.
Rice is the food of Gods and is offered everyday at each little temple, an offer first and then the day begins, I think it is such a fantastic way to start your day, little baskets with flowers, money, rice and sometimes sweets. I love watching their ritual, it is flowing, graceful and serene.

I get given the translation into English of the beautiful prayer they say every time they make an offering:

OFFERING TO GOD

My prayer
So deep in my heart
Is whispering to God
In the dancing smoke
Of the incense

My hopes
Are opening
In the fragrant flowers

My soul
Is cleansed
In the holy water

All together glorious is my offering

Ubud is a unique and special town, a good mix of local Balinese and foreigners from all corners of the Western World seeking an organic, intellectual, spiritual and unhurried kind of existence. It has something for everyone (except surf) and so we fly through our time here yogaring, eating out, eating in, talking laughing, shopping, playing with monkeys and absorbing this highly civilized piece of the world.