Mission to find Paradise

Whilst Ubud is a dreamy utopia we are here to surf and need to find our patch of beach to spend the next month. We decide to hire a car and take a day exploring the island looking for Craig’s elusive dream, a place where he can start his day surfing and end his day surfing.

Thank God we have Lawrence as navigator extraordinaire, Craig as driver and Lou as the final say. The poor kids are dragged along for good measure (they could have stayed and swam and had a good day poor critters)

Driving a car for the first time in Asia is going to be a new challenge and I approach it with a good deal of respect. The roads are narrow, potholed and crammed with people, dogs, kids, scooters, trucks and cars. We set of and surprisingly find our way to Uluwatu the grand and famous surf venue featured in a 1000 surf magazines. The roads are narrow and windy and there is little or no signage so most of the time we haven’t a clue where we are. We wander down little severely potholed roads that take ages to negotiate, stopping frequently to receive vague advice from well meaning locals. Time is pushing, its now already 1pm and we are nowhere closer to finding ‘that for which we seek’.

We read in the book that there is a fantastic surf spot called Medewi, its right up the West coast about 140km away. We think okay lets just skip all this and head out to the middle of nowhere. First though we have to fight our way through lunch time traffic, the centre of the city, past the airport and onto the coastal road. We discover that there is no highway, the first 80km’s consist of built up towns crammed with dogs, kids, footballs, scooters, the odd funeral procession, you know just your normal island life…….on the streets.

Its 4.30 when we arrive in Medewi which is literally just a surf spot with 2 basic resorts and a few warangs (general dealers). Rural to the extreme with black volcanic sand and a wave that makes Craig tingle to the toes. As always the Gods send us a guide, this ones name is Harris, a charming young surfer, facilitator and translator. He shows me the break which is outstanding with the promise of big swells arriving in the coming days and then says he knows of a good place 300m (read 3km) down the road. So we jump in our car and chase his scooter through friendly little villages with people greeting us from all sides. Suddenly a tiny little child darts outs of nowhere and appears smack bang in the middle of the track literally under my wheels. I slam on brakes and stop with my bumper inches from this smiling little cutie pie. Our aching nerves!

We arrive at the Villa which belongs to some Aussie guy who checked out of mainstream and now has 2 suites to rent and spends his days surfing and drinking (his complexion is ruddy to the extreme). He is keen to have us, but we really envisioned our own villa with a kitchen as I am desperate to cook without MSG (trying to keep the itching at bay). He says no problem we can use his kitchen. Not ideal and we are not sure but the surf is beckoning Craig, our suite is large and comfortable with exquisite uninterrupted views over a rim flow pool, rice paddies and onto the ocean without a single building in sight.

We are under time pressure, its past 5pm we have been driving since early in the morning and we still face a four hour journey back to Ubud. It’s an all or nothing kind of decision so we commit to the Villa and start our return journey.

The trip back is worse in the dark, the road is full of trucks carrying containers to the city. In India we had experienced a different type of driving, let’s call it ‘just in time’ driving, similar rules apply here. There are no double lanes and very few straight sections. In order to overtake you have to face oncoming traffic up close and in your face. Between you, the truck you are overtaking, the dogs, scooters all around and the oncoming traffic everyone gives a little and somehow you slip back into your lane just in time. With trucks crawling along at a snails pace I was forced to start driving like a local or we would have taken all night!

We made it back late that night, the car was intact but our nerves were in tatters. I can say with a fair amount of confidence that I am now qualified to drive anywhere.

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.

Singapore to Bali

We take an early morning flight from Ho Chi Min City’s shiny new airport to Singapore and then have a 5 hour layover before our flight to Bali. The boys love Singapore Airport, there is so much too do, they disappear into the games section, I go shopping and Craig goes online to do some
e-mailing. What he hasn’t done is reset his clock, a recipe for disaster. We have arranged a meeting place for us to collect him on the way to boarding but when they announce boarding for our flight Craig is nowhere to be found.

I think he must be at the gate which is a good half a kilometer away. We get there and NO CRAIG (I start to panic slightly and think typical, as he always finds something to do just as we are about to leave for anywhere)

I tell the kids to wait at the gate and I’ll go look for him and with 15 minutes to spare start running, can’t find him, run back to the gate have 5 minutes, plead with them to call him, they won’t, can’t give names, now I’m thinking we will all miss the flight and frustration isn’t even the word. Eventually they come up with a lost child scenario (the only way they can make a public announcement.)

I, in the meantime am engrossed in work thinking I have another hour to spare when Mr Killeen over the PA system penetrates into my subconscious and I start running. Now this is a big airport with signs estimating time needed to reach different sections. I have 2 minutes to cover a 20 minute walk. Somehow I make it and arrive as the gates are closing, slip through and see my pale faced family……am I in KAK. There is a stony silence aboard our lovely Singapore Airlines flights to Bali, the plane is empty so we spread out and descend into our own respective movies.
We have six weeks in Bali and our plan is to chill and get to know one little corner really well. We arrive at about 7pm and line up for passport control noting the prominent signs warning about the death penalty for drug trafficking. We draw cash - figure out the currency and stock up on tequila and wine at the duty free. We pass through customs unhindered and walk out into our newly adopted country. After the slickness of Singapore the difference is profound, we have arrived on a tropical island.

Lawrence and Janine had arranged a driver called Ketut to pick us up and whisk us to Ubud to join them. We search the assortment of signs amongst the enthusiastic Bali faces at arrivals but no Ketut. It is now 9.30 pm and the airport is thinning out rapidly, I wander off to find an internet café, print out the directions Lawrence has given, befriend a “taksi” driver and negotiate a fare for our 1 ½ hour trip up to the centre of the island. We introduce ourselves to the new driver and guess what his name is? KETUT - he laughs and says everyone in Bali is Ketut.

It seems all the names of children are the same, child number 1 Wayan and if a girl Ni wayan , child number 2 Made, child number 3 Nyoman and child number 4 Ketut, then if number 5 comes you start all over again.

Anyway our Ketut is a real gem chatting away about life and business in Bali and generally making us feel very relaxed. Made us laugh too, we were discussing interest rates and when we told him the interest rate in South Africa he said FUCK in his Balinese accent, it was so unexpected we burst out laughing. We decide he is going to be our man on the island and he proves to be invaluable over the next 6 weeks helping smooth over a few sticky situations, a real Mr Fixit!

The streets are dark and its almost midnight by the time we arrive in Ubud. We are staying on the outskirts of the town and spend some time tracking down our new home called the T house. We stop, leave the car and lurch down a lane and knock on a door several times unsure if we are at the correct house. Eventually we hear “who is it?’ and when we say the Killeen’s a huge shriek comes from inside, they weren’t expecting us till the next night. We had all mixed up dates but it was a great reunion, Lawrence started making Arak cocktails, a local rice wine brew and we knew we have made it to Bali.