Rice, cat poop coffee and pig parts- more of Bali

With Dale as our intrepid guide, and Wayan as our intrepid driver, we all intrepidly embarked on a tour de l'isle. It was nice to get out of Seminyak and all of its beach culture frenzy. We had already done this for a day on motorbikes, and had learned our lesson, so this time we elected to travel in Wayan's van. Remy and Liz are overwhelmed by the natural and cultural beauty of this place, but Bowen was able to contain his own excitement and the rear seat of the van was suitable for him to sleep much of the journey.

We got an early start and headed north toward the central mountainous area of the island. The temperatures cooled as we climbed, and the crops changed as we got higher, switching from the ubiquitous rice crops of the lowlands to a large variety of other fruits and vegetables growing on the hillsides. Here, strawberries are considered a "cool weather" crop, and they grow year 'round.

But what captivates us the most is the architecture and people. Everything is adorned in a riot of symbolic decoration. The population of Bali is about 4 million, and there are 20,000 temples. Each temple has a "birthday" which is celebrated once every 210 days, according to the Balinese Hindu calendar, and then there are island-wide festivals thrown in on top of that. Plus, birthdays, cremations and weddings. There is a constant string of festivals being celebrated at the family, village and island levels, so it is a wonder that much gets done here.

This is the entrance portal to a small village. This one is slightly more grand than most, but not extraordinarily so. There is no doubt where city limits lie here.

This tree had blown down across the road, but there was no waiting for the "authorities" to come deal with it. Locals showed up with their chainsaws and had the road cleared in short order, and the wood was undoubtedly removed shortly after to begin its next phase of existence as a collection of carvings.

This group of women is making what is undoubtedly one of the thousands of trips to the temple to make yet another offering, which is carried in the baskets that they have.

Some rice terraces in the mountains, showing how the flow of water is regulated to maximize its potential in growing crops. 

Another view of the terraces. As was noted above, we never tire of these views. They are equally as pleasant a landscape as a golf course, but with far greater utility.

Remy, cleaving to a clove tree. Yes, those anaesthetic little spices grow right on the road side here, along with every other major spice you can think of and a few you've probably never heard of.

Remy, pounding his pestle as a means of learning how Bali coffee is produced. It is prepared much like "Turkish" or "cowboy" coffee, with finely ground beans being mixed directly into the water and drunk black and sweet. This was part of another tour of a spice garden, about which we have become quite blasé, naming the various herbs and spices before the guide can.

This is the creature responsible for luwak, or "cat poo" coffee. The civet gorges on fresh coffee berries, passing the beans whole but after having altered their character through the action of their digestive system. Imagine being the lucky fellow who gets to harvest those!

This was the view from where we had a break to test the wares of the coffee plantation and spice garden. 

Bowen, our traveling troubadour, playing "Stairway to Heaven" to our appreciative guide. We feel like we are partway up that stairway when we are in the mountains of Bali.

Part of Liz' "Portraits of Bali" series. 

One thing you can get on Hindu Bali that is not available in the rest of Muslim Indonesia is PORK! And here they eat every part of the pig but its squeal. Here is Remy's heaping portion of "babi guling", or roast pork, included meat, skin, liver and intestine, with a piece of sausage made out of everything else, with a delicious bowl of pork broth and gristle on the side. And all for about $3!

The shingle of the restaurant where we stopped for lunch. Lunch will appear as depicted. There is no excuse if a Muslim or vegetarian walks in here.

This looks important, but it is no big deal in Bali. This wall and gateway merely surround a family compound in a small village. And while it looks ancient, with the tropical climate here everything looks ancient in a very short time.

It is not all fun and games for us in Bali. Liz had to get some work done, and so had a few days of drudgery while we were at the Grand Kumala Inn. Here the poor thing slaves over her computer.

Those Balinese will decorate anything. 

Dale had some commitments back in North America, so we had to say goodbye in Seminyak. It had been a great visit with him, having him guide us around the island and introducing us to his friends. We felt privileged to have been able to share Bali with him, but now we had to go our separate ways.

We checked out of the Grand Kumala Inn and had Wayan drive us to Sanur, which has a much more laid-back vibe then Seminyak. That is the reason some refer to it as "Snore". We found ourselves a great hotel with three pools and settled in to decompress after the frenetic week before.

This doorway to a family compound was found down a narrow alleyway connecting the main road through Sanur to the beach. Admittedly, it is a nicer iteration, but is typical in its layout. It is going to be a difficult readjustment to the parsimonious architecture of home. How can you not appreciate the world, and your life, when this is how you see everything?

A slightly more reserved entranceway to a family compound.

Just as we never get tired of the rice paddies, Remy never gets tired of the frangipani fragrance. Here is another compound wall and entrance, but this one is constructed almost completely of coral. Gee, might that help explain what has happened to the island's reefs? Happily, the authorities have stopped this method of construction (where they actually enforce it).

Sanur was a nice break, as it allowed us to start getting into a more authentic Bali mood. We found the night market and tried some of the local food with the local people. We made it to the beach and tried to fly a kite. Remy had the same success at that particular endeavour as he does with fishing, so maybe there is some issue with sports that involve managing things at the end of a string. We made a self-guided motorcycle trip to the south end of the island, visiting a couple of surfing beaches and a temple where we saw a kecak performance (traditional a cappella dance performance - none of those annoying gamelans!) and fire dance, and successfully negotiated the manic Balinese traffic all on our own. But, Sanur lived up to its reputation, and began to bore us enough that we were willing to abandon our suite and swimming pools. We had heard enough about Ubud that we were ready to submit to its allure, so we engaged Wayan again to drive us to the interior.

~Remy