Bali: A Hippy's Paradise

8 November 2015 - Flew from Hong Kong to Bali. 

As soon as I landed at Bali Despansar airport I had only one objective on my mind: withdraw cash! I found an ATM inside the airport, conveniently located in-between a souvenir shop and the heckling taxi drivers. Ignoring the calls for "taxi"and "good price for you sir" I instantly became a millionaire having withdrawn 2,500,000 IR. Now ready to face the Battle for a Taxi, I was told by a pair of taxi drivers that 600 IR to Ubud was a bargain and that I would be crazy to think otherwise. However, I had read 300 was a reasonable asking price, so the negotiations began.

After an hour driving, we arrived within close proximity of my hostel, although it became apparent the taxi driver didn't know exactly where it was. At this point I began to wonder how the driver was so sure I had to pay a premium when negotiating at the airport because the location was difficult to get to. Indeed it would be difficult, if you do not know where it is. I offered to call the hostel on my phone (I'm a millionaire now so what's an international call?) and within a few minutes was checking in to Dawa Hostel. Bim, the owner and manager of the hostel, proved to be a very helpful and delightful character.

Whilst waiting for Bim to finish photocopying my passport and the basic documents for check-in, I was starting to wake up, despite it being almost midnight, I was in Bali (!) and I'm about to meet the other hostel guys - I'm sure they're all on their way out and I'll hopefully be just in time to join them. As I walked in to the dorm, the lights were off, a regimented daily routine at 23:00. It was silent. Those who were not sleeping were detailing their experiences of enlightenment in their most recent yoga session. My bed was number 7 - a number that seemed to be rather prominent throughout the whole trip; either my bed or room was number 7. My initial reaction overlooked the design of the beds with their own curtains that respected ones privacy and instead I was asking myself, why is it so quiet? It turned out, Ubud attracts the hippy travellers that enjoy stretching their limbs in such ways to make them look like they have no ligaments. Undeterred - I was wide awake now - I stepped out on to Monkey Road, the main street in Ubud, bought some crisps and nuts from a convenient store opposite and started to wander. I turned right from the hostel as there seemed to be more noise and lights in that direction, but still very far from Vegas' strip. Having walked past a few restaurants that were closing and saying goodnight to their tourist customers, I spent a few hours in XL Shisha Lounge, before heading back to my bed, ready to start my first full day in Bali.

In the morning, having been woken by two girls discussing their daily itinerary - in full detail - I decided to get out of bed. Having stepped outside the dorm, I was approached by Indra, a pleasant Australian backpacker who enjoyed the tranquillity of our temporary new home. She asked if I wanted to join her and a friend to a waterfall and as I try to avoid saying 'no' when away, I asked for thirty minutes to buy some shorts and a coffee and I'd be ready. We met back at the hostel when our taxi arrived and drove us to Tegenungan Waterfall. I don't usually enjoy waterfalls, but this was an enjoyable two hour stay and would definitely recommend if in Ubud. Upon returning to the hostel, I was discussing with Bim about the various treks in the area. Before arriving in Bali I was interested in the Mount Agung trek as it is the highest point on the island. Most tourists book the easier trek on neighbouring Mount Batu, Bim told me with a testing look in his eye. But the challenge of the highest mountain and little interest to most backpackers made Mount Agung even more appealing to me. After phoning around, Bim secured me a good price for 1.2m IR and that night I was due to climb. With hindsight, I was ill prepared for the trek. Instead of eating some good nutritious food and getting rest before I was due to be collected at midnight, I instead went for a shameful (western-bland) curry and then smoked shisha until 23:45. I rushed back to the dorm and packed a bag of what I thought would be the essentials: water, camera, jumper, charger, peanuts.

After sitting in the taxi for one hour, 1:00 was approaching fast and the trek's intensity was clear from the amount of people on the tour - a grand total of three. I was trekking with a German couple who had been training for this walk; they had walking boots, sticks, rucksacks and a two litre bottle, each. I was starting to feel unprepared, but before I could embrace any more negative thoughts, we arrived at our guide’s house, on the foot of the hill where our trek was to start. By 1:30 we started the ascent. About half way up we paused, turned our torch-lights off and gazed at the stars above. The night sky was like no sky I have witnessed before. The lyrics of 'diamonds in the sky' were at the forefront of my mind. The sky was velvet black, with thousands of diamonds scattered across from corner to corner as if they had been dealt by a dealer's hand in a game of poker. As we enjoyed the stillness of the night I looked down at the local villages' lights flickering away and observed the silence up on the mountain. After a short break we commenced the next phase of the trek. From here, it was much steeper, and with every look into the distance at what I thought was the peak, I would be assured shortly after there was another peak, and another, and another. The last forty-five minutes was more rock-climbing than trekking. Then finally, there was no more, just a jagged rock to sit on to rest - what more could you ask for after bad food, no sleep and a long trek? But that was ok, by now I was very tired, the calories from the curry were exhausted, and my alveoli were wonderingwhy I had to smoke shisha immediately before. When we reached the summit, one hour earlier than expected, our guide poured out a coffee for the champions and we ate bread whilst waiting for the sun to rise.

The sunrise was special and looking down on the clouds below was a very surreal experience. But now, the worst was to come: the decent. After walking throughout the night for four hours, the last thing I wanted to do was trek some more! I remember wishing there was a cable cart that could just take me back down, why does Uber not reach here? After a very uncomfortable trek down which seemed to go on forever, our taxi was waiting for us and we were happy to return straight to our beds back at the hostel. I was trying to stay awake in the taxi, but I could feel my eyes closing and sometimes my head would jolt up as I’d fallen to sleep. When finally back to the dorm, I went straight to sleep and looked forward to staying there for as long as possible.

Three hours into my sleep a hippy in my dorm decided to play his guitar about one meter away from where I was sleeping. It’s at times like this you remember why hostels are so cheap. As I was awake I decided to go for a deep tissue massage at Bumi Bali Spa – a complete delight. I returned back to my dorm tired but very relaxed and with fresh laundry, thanks to Bim’s speedy service. Luckily throughout my trek I avoided the bad weather. But tonight, the weather was bad, with the rain pouring relentlessly. I joined a group of German backpackers who were staying at the hostel but on their way out for dinner. I was expecting local food, perhaps some authentic warung. Unfortunately, they decided on a restaurant with western food so I just had a starter and went to a warung after that caught my eye earlier in the day. I was so hungry and the food was so good I asked for more, costing a total of 67k (£3.50). I ate everything: spicy fish, rice, sautéed vegetables, stewed beef, prawns and chicken.

The next day I decided to rent a motorcycle from Bim for 60k (£3.50). I was so pleased he was relaxed about the rental, unlike some who get you to sign various documents where you commit to give your life if you scratch the bike. I thought of looking at a map, but then where would the fun be in that? I followed some road signs to the rice paddies in Ubud and within a fifteen minute ride, I was there. I pulled up, had a Balinese coffee and admired the bright green paddies. From previous experience being on a bike, I wanted to buy a thin scarf to cover my neck so it wouldn’t burn whilst riding. Just next to where I parked my bike were many shops selling various fabrics. I picked out a nice fabric with a black and blue pattern and off I went, northbound to see Mount Batu.

I stopped at a coffee farm which proved to be a slight tourist trap – but not too bad for Southeast Asia. Just as I tried to make an escape, it started raining again, so I sat under a bamboo umbrella at the entrance to the site and waited for the rain to stop. After 20 minutes, I gave up waiting and rode off into the rain. Within five minutes, my jeans were completely wet, it was impossible to get any wetter. As I continued northbound up what is probably one of the only roads running south to north, I was stopped by a local. He told me I must not go further because police were there and they would fine me many USD for not having a bike license. His solution was to follow him, as he knows a short-cut that would avoid the police. He even proposed visiting his home to give me a new t-shirt as he was concerned I would get sick if I stayed in these wet clothes. My reaction was to be very cautious of his proposition, why would a stranger be so considerate? That was my Western reaction. Then I wondered if I would have as good an experience if I choose not to follow him. So that’s exactly what I did. I followed him to his house; he introduced me to his wife who gave me a new, dry, t-shirt. We then got back on our bikes and he led me to a restaurant he works at which was a buffet overlooking Mount Batu. From this point I realised he wanted to continue his tour for the day. I didn’t feel too comfortable with this so told him I would head south back to Ubud. In an attempt to show me his lovely home-town / find a way to make money from me (delete as appropriate) he guided me to his family owned coffee farm. It was very similar to the one I had seen earlier, where I tasted various Balinese drinks (turmeric and honey was very good). Finally we finished in the shop, but I said I did not wish to purchase anything. My guide was clearly not happy with this answer, so I bought a small box of Luwak Coffee for 250k. Time was passing quick and I wanted to avoid riding back from Mount Batu in the dark, particularly if the heavens opened like they did earlier in the day. I decided to be cautious and drove back towards Ubud.

That night in the hostel, I met Britney, an American backpacker who - it later transpired - shared the same lack of enthusiasm for the local tourist attractions as myself. It was refreshing to meet someone with similar observations, or at least not so hippified.  Britney and I went for local food at warung Makun Bu Rus – it was delicious! I warmed to her almost immediately as it was welcoming to finally meet another traveller on this trip who wanted to embrace the local cuisine. It baffles me why so many Westerners go to Asia only to eat western food.

The next morning while Britney went to look in the Monkey Sanctuary, I had a chicken curry (20k/£1.17), pineapple juice (8k/£0.47) and turmeric juice (5k/£0.29) and attempted to update my journal – always an epic failure whilst travelling. Before my food had arrived Britney was already back from the Monkey Sanctuary. Most backpackers are amazed by the local Monkey Sanctuary so I was surprised to see her back so soon. I asked if she had already been, "yeah, it's just a park with monkeys" she replied. I knew we were going to get along.

Later that evening Britney and I decided to get a few of us together from the hostel and visit Jungle Fish. I withdrew another 1.5m IR  (£90) and we got a taxi to what was apparently a hotel with an infinity pool that was yet to reach those following the pilgrimage in the Lonely Planet. We almost had the bar and pool to ourselves which was great and it looked just like the photos. Although the food and drinks were rather expensive compared to local restaurants (at £15 for a burger and 2 cocktails) for a tourist location this is to be expected and even more so for its exclusivity. As we sat around the pool discussing our plans for the trip, Britney and I decided to leave Ubud that night and get a taxi to Kuta; we wanted somewhere with an evening pulse. We arrived in Kuta Bali Caps Hostel (150k/£9 per night) and immediately freshened up to hit the nightlife: Legian Street.

Having got in at 3:00 and then being woken up at 9:30 by another traveller's alarm, we decided to make the most of an early start by checking out of the hostel and moving closer to the centre of Kuta by checking into Kyuan Hostel (£9 per night). We wandered around the nocturnal town, ate breakfast at Vi Ai Pi Club (mixed chicken and beef satay with iced coffee for £3.50). While Britney went back to the hostel to get ready for our seafood dinner on the beach pre-booked for sunset, I strolled down various alleys filled with stalls and bought a miniature bamboo serf board (100k/£5.80) and a 'I love Bali' bag. Not realising how far I had walked, I rushed back to the hostel for 16:45, had a very quick shower and ordered an Uber for our planned dinner. The meal was great, large seafood platter with crab, prawns and lobster (450k) with the beach almost to ourselves. After watching the sunset, we headed back to Legian Street to paint the town red for Britney's last night!

When I woke up at 9:30 the following morning, I realised I had been so side tracked with daily events in Katu I forgot to plan my trip to Borobodobur. I booked a hotel with the same name (£50) and walked from Katu to Seminyak up to Potato Head Beach Club where I stayed for sunset whilst sipping on some rather nice jasmine ice tea (45k) and Mereah (60k) which is a strawberry and dragon fruit cocktail with hibiscus. As nightfall came, I started to walk back to my hostel. Just before stopping in a warung for nasi campun I was stopped by a ladyboy on a bike offering various services for 100k. The warung acted as both a place of rest and a hideout. It was a fabulous little place, with just a few stalls inside and the owner sitting in the corner watching television. I felt almost as if I was interrupting by being there, and as I stepped in she looked over to me as if I was lost. With a second step in her restaurant I assured her I was here for good food, and boy did she deliver. When I asked for the bill, I thought she said 50 but soon realised she said 15. I had handed over a 50k note and felt bad to take the change - especially as I was more than happy to pay 50k. When I got back to the hostel, I sat outside sipping on a lemon Bintang (20k) and updated my journal.

The next morning I woke up early and headed straight to the airport with the intention of buying my ticket to fly to Yogjakarta. As I queued up at the Air Asia ticket office, they assured me the only ticket available was first class. Unfortunately, it had a first class price. Having checked Skyscanner the night before, I knew there were tickets at cheaper rates. I left the ticket office and booked a flight on my phone. Although the cheaper flight had gone, I managed to book a flight with Guardian Airlines that would depart later that evening. I got a taxi back to Katu, sat in Starbucks reading my book and then visited the famous Soma for a Soma Special massage (1.5 hours for 260k) - it was a stressful day.