Pack up the now dry gear and check the car over. Nothing visible, coolant level ok, tyres ok - well 3 are as bald as a coot - but it was like that when we got it (honest). Asked for a bucket & cloth to clean windows, chap duly arrives and washes car for us - sweet. Negotiate Ubud IDR three times before managing to leave (like some ancient spell, thrice widdershins ye shall go else meet the wrath of the parking attendant). Get hit from behind by overenthusiastic moped - no damage.
Arrive Sanur (avoiding their parking attendant) and, while we still have the car, swing by the Korean's dive centre on the by-pass. He is very friendly and talkative and says he has excellent facilities (he does) but no customers. In a bid to kick-start the business and attract custom, yesterday he hired a Canadian instructor. Damn & blast. Check back in to Puri Kelapa and straight out to find the internet and secure a place on tomorrow's shuttle boat to Lembongan Island. Gave car back.
Freshen up by candlelight as whole town's power has failed, and out to dinner still hopeful that we can get wi-fi. Only one restaurant on the beach has its own generator and is functioning normally - even wi-fi (pronounced we-fe) is available.
Sunday, 16 August 2009
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
Blahbutah
We need to head inland for the next leg of our journey. Only now it’s getting dark which makes navigation even harder. You can’t see the few road signs there are (mostly behind trees), we can’t read the tiny writing on the map as we can’t find our glasses and we both want a beer!
After several hours of U-turning we find the village Blahblahblah or something. Check the envelope. B****ks. We’re not meant to be here but the village we passed ½ hr ago. Find glasses, re-read map. See the turning. There’s a tap on the window. A sweet chap on a moto with his wife point us in the right direction. 2km late he’s back at the traffic lights. We’re in the wrong lane – turn right he gestures, not far. So slowly we go peering in the dark (it’s very dark) for some indication of the Gubah Villas. Nothing. Then our chap’s back again. It’s here!! It is?? Ah, that’ll be the sign you can only see if you come from the other direction as yet another U-turn is executed. (One thing I can say about our little car – it turns on a sixpence). We are nearly there.
Hard left hand down – kerplunk!**!?? Well who leaves an open manhole like that!! Adrian and our friendly chap lift the car out of the hole and we check there’s not too much damage. And we meander down very narrow lanes for another mile until the road stops. And there is a smiling face waving a torch. We are expected.
Very tired, we just eat & hop into our very tall bed, ready to see just where we have landed in the morning…
Oh we are in the Island of the Gods. Our secluded villa resort is tucked, tumbling down a hill in the tropical forest just outside Gianyar town. The Herons go out for the day at 6am (sunrise) and come home to roost at 6pm (sunset) It’s magical. We have a lazy start then go for a stroll round the rice terraces, following the river. Loop back round on the main road for a bit. Past the usual meddly of shops that sell everything, brick and tile makers and a Music Studio?!
Back to the fields, find a proper path which leads into steps going down and down, past the waterfalls until wow! There is a temple built into the rocks. Amazing.
Then back up all those steps we’d come down (huff, puff) ready for a cool beer back at base. Don’t want to spoil our appetite as afternoon tea is on the cards (with pancakes, mmmmmmmm)
The afternoon just seems to disappear and the helpful staff take our order for dinner, to be served on our own veranda later. Sundown, power out, everywhere. Ooops. But dinner still arrives (hot) and beer (cold) and we amuse ourselves making shadow animals (still can’t do deformed rabbit) by the light of our candle.
After several hours of U-turning we find the village Blahblahblah or something. Check the envelope. B****ks. We’re not meant to be here but the village we passed ½ hr ago. Find glasses, re-read map. See the turning. There’s a tap on the window. A sweet chap on a moto with his wife point us in the right direction. 2km late he’s back at the traffic lights. We’re in the wrong lane – turn right he gestures, not far. So slowly we go peering in the dark (it’s very dark) for some indication of the Gubah Villas. Nothing. Then our chap’s back again. It’s here!! It is?? Ah, that’ll be the sign you can only see if you come from the other direction as yet another U-turn is executed. (One thing I can say about our little car – it turns on a sixpence). We are nearly there.
Hard left hand down – kerplunk!**!?? Well who leaves an open manhole like that!! Adrian and our friendly chap lift the car out of the hole and we check there’s not too much damage. And we meander down very narrow lanes for another mile until the road stops. And there is a smiling face waving a torch. We are expected.
Very tired, we just eat & hop into our very tall bed, ready to see just where we have landed in the morning…
Oh we are in the Island of the Gods. Our secluded villa resort is tucked, tumbling down a hill in the tropical forest just outside Gianyar town. The Herons go out for the day at 6am (sunrise) and come home to roost at 6pm (sunset) It’s magical. We have a lazy start then go for a stroll round the rice terraces, following the river. Loop back round on the main road for a bit. Past the usual meddly of shops that sell everything, brick and tile makers and a Music Studio?!
Back to the fields, find a proper path which leads into steps going down and down, past the waterfalls until wow! There is a temple built into the rocks. Amazing.
Then back up all those steps we’d come down (huff, puff) ready for a cool beer back at base. Don’t want to spoil our appetite as afternoon tea is on the cards (with pancakes, mmmmmmmm)
The afternoon just seems to disappear and the helpful staff take our order for dinner, to be served on our own veranda later. Sundown, power out, everywhere. Ooops. But dinner still arrives (hot) and beer (cold) and we amuse ourselves making shadow animals (still can’t do deformed rabbit) by the light of our candle.
Amed & Dangerous
Amed’s not far, just 10km or an hour; if you are planning to come although the roads are pretty good, they are very twisty turny, don’t expect to hurry anywhere. We find Jukung divers (as recommended by Chris Brown) and make plans for our dives tomorrow. It’s all rather businesslike with the somewhat humourless Dutch but OK. Find a room for the night at the second place of asking and settle into yet another massive hut on a beach. 
Risk a cocktail (it IS my birthday) The list reads perfectly normal: Bloody Mary, Screwdriver, Caipirinha, Pina Colada etc. except for whatever alcohol it’s meant to be, substitute Arak – slightly weird aftertaste but we survive.
After our dives we check out the other PADI centres. There are lots of dive operations here but PADI isn’t strong. Eurodivers is run by a tall blond Hungarian and they cater mostly for the French. She took our card but not very welcoming. At the Puri Wirata they are much more convivial. The young Belgian manager tells about his resort and we book to dive the reef in front, tomorrow. Well, we can have nitrox.
Overnight at the Pondok Vienna a couple of km further on at Lipah beach – another bargain for 450 Rupiah including breakfast & dinner.
What we hadn’t bargained on was the owner’s brother. He spent the entire evening saying his dream is the same as ours and he knows lots of people (mostly his family) who all have restaurants villas and dive centres. He provides them all with business advice. We can stay in his house in Amalpura, use his car, he can sort out the visas and all we have to do is get the website up to market our resort. All sounds rather crazy but we won’t dismiss it completely. Exchange contact details and will be in touch when the holiday is over. After all we are homeless.
Morning dives fantastic but no time to dry the gear as we have lots to do before nightfall. Not least driving into Amalpura on festival day (it’s always a festival day of one sort or another here) to find the only ATM for miles which takes VISA cards.
Then swing by the Lotus Bungalows in Candidasa as the attached dive company (Gangga) had been really positive about our prospects when we wrote at the beginning of the year. However, not this one. The chap I need to see is on one of the Gilis off Lombok. Oh well, next time. Just wish we could find the internet to see if he replied to my last email.
Oh yes forgot to say – the internet is very sparse round here, as if you hadn’t noticed by our silence for the last few days.
Risk a cocktail (it IS my birthday) The list reads perfectly normal: Bloody Mary, Screwdriver, Caipirinha, Pina Colada etc. except for whatever alcohol it’s meant to be, substitute Arak – slightly weird aftertaste but we survive.After our dives we check out the other PADI centres. There are lots of dive operations here but PADI isn’t strong. Eurodivers is run by a tall blond Hungarian and they cater mostly for the French. She took our card but not very welcoming. At the Puri Wirata they are much more convivial. The young Belgian manager tells about his resort and we book to dive the reef in front, tomorrow. Well, we can have nitrox.
Overnight at the Pondok Vienna a couple of km further on at Lipah beach – another bargain for 450 Rupiah including breakfast & dinner. What we hadn’t bargained on was the owner’s brother. He spent the entire evening saying his dream is the same as ours and he knows lots of people (mostly his family) who all have restaurants villas and dive centres. He provides them all with business advice. We can stay in his house in Amalpura, use his car, he can sort out the visas and all we have to do is get the website up to market our resort. All sounds rather crazy but we won’t dismiss it completely. Exchange contact details and will be in touch when the holiday is over. After all we are homeless.
Morning dives fantastic but no time to dry the gear as we have lots to do before nightfall. Not least driving into Amalpura on festival day (it’s always a festival day of one sort or another here) to find the only ATM for miles which takes VISA cards.
Then swing by the Lotus Bungalows in Candidasa as the attached dive company (Gangga) had been really positive about our prospects when we wrote at the beginning of the year. However, not this one. The chap I need to see is on one of the Gilis off Lombok. Oh well, next time. Just wish we could find the internet to see if he replied to my last email.
Oh yes forgot to say – the internet is very sparse round here, as if you hadn’t noticed by our silence for the last few days.
Pan Bali Highway
We said our farewells to Pemuteran for the long drive on the north Coast to Tulamben. Not before we’d stopped for coffee and T-shirt buying at Reef Seen and left our CVs with Chris Brown with the glimmer of work in November.
The coast road isn’t too bad although chocker with motos & very slow lorries. Sorry to Mike Franey but you just have to go for it or you’d be there all day. This is worse than crossing the road in Phnom Penh! We manage to negotiate our way though Seririt & Singaraja and still heading in the right direction we think. The sea is on the left and mount Karangasem (active volcano) is on the right, that’s the main thing; signage is a bit haphazard. The only way we’ve found to tell where you are is to read the addresses on the shop fronts and even that’s a bit hit and miss.
Arrive at the Scuba Seraya in time for lunch and to check in with the diving people. All seems very relaxed and so peaceful after Pemuteran. Small bit to eat before a spot of job prospecting. We’d read about the resort next door (The Emerald) and were hopeful. But how deceptive websites can be. The place is basically going bust and has been since it opened 12 years ago. Such a shame as it should have been a roaring success. Beautiful bungalows scattered in lawns rolling down to the sea. But it’s empty when everything else is full. Maybe because they only cater for the Japanese – who knows. Onward to the Mimpi, having dived with them at Menjangen.
Totally different. They are buzzing and we have another cuppa with the lad that’s running it. Although he says his contract is up for the next couple of months while it‘s windy so he’s off to PNG until it dies down. As the sun’s going down we call it a day and head back to freshen up for early dinner as we’re on for a pre-breakfast dive on the Liberty before he crowds from further afield turn up.
Another new day dawns, the breeze blows away the last of the night’s clouds as we kit up for the 5 minute boat ride to the wreck. The Liberty is a US ship gunship sunk by torpedo in 1943 then pushed further out to sea by the volcano in 1963. It’s quite broken up but the main structures provide a stunning backdrop and home to a wealth of life on and around it. And as promised not too many other divers yet.
With all this moving around we’ve completely lost track what day it is. Suddenly remember it’s August 8th! Adrian sings Happy Birthday as we fin round the wreck. What more could you want… An underwater serenade by your husband in paradise
Back for a fine breakfast of tea, toast, eggs & fresh fruit before our second dive on the wall. Lovely.
Quickly get the gear drying as we have to make tracks to our next stop in Amed. Don’t want to be too late as we need to find somewhere to stay. But we are delayed as the staff are surprised we’re leaving before lunch – it’s included (Just how much have we paid to stay here I wonder?)
The coast road isn’t too bad although chocker with motos & very slow lorries. Sorry to Mike Franey but you just have to go for it or you’d be there all day. This is worse than crossing the road in Phnom Penh! We manage to negotiate our way though Seririt & Singaraja and still heading in the right direction we think. The sea is on the left and mount Karangasem (active volcano) is on the right, that’s the main thing; signage is a bit haphazard. The only way we’ve found to tell where you are is to read the addresses on the shop fronts and even that’s a bit hit and miss.
Arrive at the Scuba Seraya in time for lunch and to check in with the diving people. All seems very relaxed and so peaceful after Pemuteran. Small bit to eat before a spot of job prospecting. We’d read about the resort next door (The Emerald) and were hopeful. But how deceptive websites can be. The place is basically going bust and has been since it opened 12 years ago. Such a shame as it should have been a roaring success. Beautiful bungalows scattered in lawns rolling down to the sea. But it’s empty when everything else is full. Maybe because they only cater for the Japanese – who knows. Onward to the Mimpi, having dived with them at Menjangen.
Totally different. They are buzzing and we have another cuppa with the lad that’s running it. Although he says his contract is up for the next couple of months while it‘s windy so he’s off to PNG until it dies down. As the sun’s going down we call it a day and head back to freshen up for early dinner as we’re on for a pre-breakfast dive on the Liberty before he crowds from further afield turn up.
Another new day dawns, the breeze blows away the last of the night’s clouds as we kit up for the 5 minute boat ride to the wreck. The Liberty is a US ship gunship sunk by torpedo in 1943 then pushed further out to sea by the volcano in 1963. It’s quite broken up but the main structures provide a stunning backdrop and home to a wealth of life on and around it. And as promised not too many other divers yet.
With all this moving around we’ve completely lost track what day it is. Suddenly remember it’s August 8th! Adrian sings Happy Birthday as we fin round the wreck. What more could you want… An underwater serenade by your husband in paradise
Back for a fine breakfast of tea, toast, eggs & fresh fruit before our second dive on the wall. Lovely.
Quickly get the gear drying as we have to make tracks to our next stop in Amed. Don’t want to be too late as we need to find somewhere to stay. But we are delayed as the staff are surprised we’re leaving before lunch – it’s included (Just how much have we paid to stay here I wonder?)
Thursday, 6 August 2009
McDiving
Not much to report today, we just went diving in Secret Bay, a macro and muck divers paradise - this is some of what we saw
Wednesday, 5 August 2009
The barren north
Find the road to Serririt on the north coast. Probably the nearest thing to civilisation we're likely to see for a while so Amanda decides would be a good thing to explore town for a towel shop. (Don't ask) As every shop seems to sell everything thought it would be easy but actually there is only one. Use our finest indonesian (two handouks please) which immediately endears us to the ower (a tailor by trade). "Where are you staying tonight" he asks "Nowhere :(" we reply forelornly "Ah, let me call my friend, he has a very nice restaurant & rooms in Pemuteran". We duly chat to his friend , unfortunately drew a blank for tonight but good for the next two.
Make good time and cover the 50K or so to Pemuteran by lunchtime, Introduce ourselves to the Japanese diving operation we're booked with tomorrow (Mimpi) and start looking for a bed. It's high season and everywhere is full unless we want to pay $150 a night (being the cheapest room at the 5* place we're diving with) Surely we can do better. Lost count of the hotels & homestays we asked in a 5K stretch. Give up resigned to spending a fortune we head back to the Mimpi when spy a sign, Good Indonesian Food, Rooms, Aircon, Bakpakker prices. He has a room only 150000 rupiah (about £10). Seems a friendly enough chap, used to run a dive centre, we agree to the room. Eurghhh within a minute we are both scratching. Still, a bed's a bed...
Make good time and cover the 50K or so to Pemuteran by lunchtime, Introduce ourselves to the Japanese diving operation we're booked with tomorrow (Mimpi) and start looking for a bed. It's high season and everywhere is full unless we want to pay $150 a night (being the cheapest room at the 5* place we're diving with) Surely we can do better. Lost count of the hotels & homestays we asked in a 5K stretch. Give up resigned to spending a fortune we head back to the Mimpi when spy a sign, Good Indonesian Food, Rooms, Aircon, Bakpakker prices. He has a room only 150000 rupiah (about £10). Seems a friendly enough chap, used to run a dive centre, we agree to the room. Eurghhh within a minute we are both scratching. Still, a bed's a bed...
Not wishing to stay any longer than we have to, head back to town to check out the 1/2 dozen dive centres we'd seen en route for some job prospecting. Bit of research on the internet first find a Brit and an Ozzie - start with the Brit. Paul Turley runs Sea Rovers out of the Adi Assri Hotel. Very helpful Geordie gave us plenty of info over a cup of tea. Then onwards to the Ozzie as it's approaching beer o'clock. Chris Brown runs a very conservation aware outfit called Reef Seen Aquatics. He makes us welcome and we sample local brew (Storm) accompanied by oysters as tonight the pearl farmers are doing a promotion. He asks where we are staying. With slightly scrunched up noses we confess. He says sorry but he's full. Then asks are we divers. Of course (smile, grin, eyelash flutter etc) Magically now he has a room, 150000 rupiah and you have to go across the courtyard for the loo. It's clean and fresh. Done deal. All we have to do now is retrieve our luggage from the other place. Adrian sups the local brew while Amanda does the dirty deed.
And so we slept well dreaming of diving...
Not much communication from the divemasters at Mimpi as our gear is taken to the boat (they have't actually asked to see out cert cards yet) and we make for Menjangan Island. Two very relaxed beautiful dives punctuated by a fine nasi campur packed in neat laquer lunchbox. See pygmy sea-horse, ornate ghost pipefish, selection of nudis, scorpionfish, lionfish, great cuttlefish and lots of other fishy stuff in a balmy 27C.
Back to town where we can now stay at the tailors mates place for the next couple of nights. Phew!
Off the map
Before leaving Sanur we stop in town to get local pre-paid SIMs. The shopkeeper kindly installs and registers them for us but wants cash so I nip to the ATM. An ear-splitting alarm goes off then I realise it just wants me to remove my card. SIMmed up we leave the hotel and head down the by-pass looking for the Korean run dive centre we hear needs some marketing savvy - the rumours were spot-on because we couldn't find it!
Ahh the open road - well not quite open, it takes us an hour of near-death experiences before we find the quiet back roads. Before long we stumble upon our guest house for the night.Probably one of the most bizzare places we've ever stayed, It's a temple; but only used on special occasions, in the mean time the host (an artist) has two rooms he lets. There is no main house but (say) 8 bungalows, the largest 2 of which are dekked-out for visiting royalty (or rock stars as both Mick Jagger and David Bowie stayed here). A plot is set aside for dining, our bedroom (which I'll come to in a mo), another guest bedroom and the rest is used by the family. The poor chap has to maintain the houses and all the gardens on his own, time he'd rather spend painting. This is strictly a homestay experience not an hotel.
Have you ever been to Longleat? And seen the Marquis of Bath's paintings? Now imagine that is reality and you're living in his mind. Quite extraordary. Completely the opposite of the simple, clean, minimalist lines you associate with Indonesian style. Everywhere you look there is a cacophony of decoration. As the small notice by the shower basin says he'll need to light 10 candles for hot water we make do with ambient temp water for a quick freshen before our miniature spatchcocked chicken supper. 
By now we have both been dressed in traditional saris ready to head into the village as we've arrived on a special celebration day for the goddess of wisdom. 
We are ushered in to the ceremony but feel out of place and back out. Our host drives us (in our car) to witness the temple blessings and dance show. Next morning we have breakfast and after are joined by whatsisnames father who has a very british accent and proceeds to explain the importance of the kite in Balinese culture. He is after all The Pioneer of this art. This is interesting but he then probes us about the role of the monarchy in British government; extraordinary. 
Whatsisface with his daughter and small dog leads us (by car) to his plot of land which he is trying to sell us - very pretty place but too remote for us. Besides not ready to be rice farmers just yet. He guides us back to the right road and we say goodbye.
The roads are a delight, round every bend is a new vista, tiered paddy field, fruit & vegetable plot, Monkey feeding-station or car-swallowing pot-hole. At one village some sort of celebration is taking place with dozens of white-dressed people in the road - impress myself by not mowing any down. We stop at a village crossroads for lunch, find a wizened old lady making packed lunches for the locals and get ushered into a stark room with 3 tables and some chairs. Wait 2 minutes then a plate of stuff appears. Stuff is excellent and we gobble it all up (note no beer). Duly fed & watered we push on to find our next hostellery. The road is getting steeper and soon we hairpin it up to what feels like the top of the world. To the left the rice terraces fall away to the crater lakes below while above a blanket of cloud hides the peaks of the Batu Karu & Mount Lesong & Mount Sangging volcanos. A few more twists and turns and we arrive at Munduk and the Puri Lumbung Cottages for a couple of nights R&R. No phone signal or internet but the drinks menu looks promising...
Next morning we tour the grounds and set off towards town. Don't know if we found it, just a slightly more densely populated bit of the road. Every other house has something drying outside: coffee cherries, cloves and stuff we can't identify. Nip into one where an old woman and her daughter are seperating the cloves from their stalks ready for drying.
Chill in our room for rest of the afternoon (and it does get chilly in the hills at night) and make plans for exploring the north coast tomorrow - and the prospect of diving at last.
We are ushered in to the ceremony but feel out of place and back out. Our host drives us (in our car) to witness the temple blessings and dance show. Next morning we have breakfast and after are joined by whatsisnames father who has a very british accent and proceeds to explain the importance of the kite in Balinese culture. He is after all The Pioneer of this art. This is interesting but he then probes us about the role of the monarchy in British government; extraordinary. 
Whatsisface with his daughter and small dog leads us (by car) to his plot of land which he is trying to sell us - very pretty place but too remote for us. Besides not ready to be rice farmers just yet. He guides us back to the right road and we say goodbye.The roads are a delight, round every bend is a new vista, tiered paddy field, fruit & vegetable plot, Monkey feeding-station or car-swallowing pot-hole. At one village some sort of celebration is taking place with dozens of white-dressed people in the road - impress myself by not mowing any down. We stop at a village crossroads for lunch, find a wizened old lady making packed lunches for the locals and get ushered into a stark room with 3 tables and some chairs. Wait 2 minutes then a plate of stuff appears. Stuff is excellent and we gobble it all up (note no beer). Duly fed & watered we push on to find our next hostellery. The road is getting steeper and soon we hairpin it up to what feels like the top of the world. To the left the rice terraces fall away to the crater lakes below while above a blanket of cloud hides the peaks of the Batu Karu & Mount Lesong & Mount Sangging volcanos. A few more twists and turns and we arrive at Munduk and the Puri Lumbung Cottages for a couple of nights R&R. No phone signal or internet but the drinks menu looks promising...
Next morning we tour the grounds and set off towards town. Don't know if we found it, just a slightly more densely populated bit of the road. Every other house has something drying outside: coffee cherries, cloves and stuff we can't identify. Nip into one where an old woman and her daughter are seperating the cloves from their stalks ready for drying.
Chill in our room for rest of the afternoon (and it does get chilly in the hills at night) and make plans for exploring the north coast tomorrow - and the prospect of diving at last.
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