Bali has become many a tourist’s destination of choice. With the wide array of pleasures the island offers — from batik and babi guling to beaches and forests, not to mention the rich history and alluring traditions, arts and culture, cuisine and shopping and the list goes on and on — no visitor can hide the wide-eyed look of touristic awe when deep in exploration.
Most people come to Bali for a tour, and within that tour they usually get a one-day break. We, on the other hand, visited Bali for a number of reasons — all of them personal pursuits. Funnily, it was this one-day break that we used for our tour. After accomplishing and achieving what we came here for, we found a guide, Ngurah Oka, a personal favorite of dear friends in Manila whom we could consult on all things Balinese.
Joining him, our comfortable van was a refuge from the morning swelter outdoors. To test and tease his knowledge of Bali, we posed this challenge to him: If a tourist had only one day to spend on the island, what would he recommend he or she do?
At the rate of five tourist destinations, plus three activities per second, his mouth was a rat-ta-ta-tat of suggestions. He almost sounded like a living brochure, advising us to watch the traditional Barong and Keris dances in Batubulan, to shop in Mas, which was the impressive center of handicrafts in gold and silver, to rest our eyes and soothe our souls in Ubud with its bottomless reserve of paintings and other artistic and cultural endeavors. “Know the beauty that the elephant cave holds in Bedulu,” he said.
“Explore the active volcano that is Mt. Batur,” he rapidly continued. “Be awed on the slope of Mt. Agung by the Beskaih temple, the biggest temple in Bali. Enjoy wild dolphins as they perform and play, jumping on the water for audiences at Lovina Beach; marvel at the eloquence of nature as embodied by the Buyan, Beratan and Tamblingan lakes.” What a catalogue of places to see and things to do! He so casually rattled off names of exotic places, we had trouble collecting all his words, initially catching only more familiar terms such as “acupuncture,” “banana boat,” “parasailing” and even “safari.” And did he just say “shopping”?
After breakfast, we hesitantly left our luxe villa at the Ramada Resort, at the tip of Tanjung Benoa area, to start our daylong adventure. On our way, the cloudless blue sky was a spectacle of sun and birds. One almost had the impression that the entirety of Bali was a massive temple — airy enough for all these birds to flap through, with the roads paved with statues and serenity. In fact, it was as if every spot in Bali was marked with a statue, from the entrances of restaurants, to the exits of marketplaces.
Passing by the unfinished Dutch Colony Museum, we wondered about the sudden sprouting of so many new buildings, all of them, no more than four floors tall. More room in the sky for birds? Asked about it, our guide informed us that buildings could not be constructed higher than coconut trees and temples, thanks to a mandate signed by the Governor of Bali in 1971 to protect the area’s tourism culture.
He recommended that we start our day with either lobster or jukut ares, a kind of Balinese chicken soup with banana stems that he urged us to taste. Having had lots of the former, even in the Philippines and on trips abroad, we thought the latter was intriguing enough to try. But too bad, we were satisfied from breakfast. Speaking of local cuisine, we recalled how one of the towns in Bali — Ubud, for that matter — sounded like our very own delicacy of fresh lumpia or “ubod.” Having a good giggle about the linguistic comparison, I thought it was a novel idea, eating an entire town draped in a lumpia wrapper, peppered with crushed nuts and visitors like ourselves.
Off to Batubulan, we watched a cultural show, the traditional Barong and Keris dances as suggested by the guide. It was a delight with its riot of colors onstage, and the expressive details on their faces — most especially the darting movements of the eyes — begging for our attention, as if every crease and wrinkle, stare and wink was choreographed meticulously. Charmed by the show, we even went backstage, just to take a peek at the performers, who were exhausted by their rigorous routine, yet smiling.
From there, we moved on to a batik factory, where we observed how these patterns were made on cloth. It was quite a learning experience. While batik isn’t at all part of what I would consider my repertoire of wear, studying the process deepened my appreciation for this generations-honored craft. Every step was discussed and demonstrated in detail: from designing the white or primed material, to filling the design with wax in dots and ornaments, to dyeing it with one or more colors, to the removal of all wax in boiling water, even to the final stages of drying the material after it had been totally washed.
Then, a lunch of domestic delicacies followed in a lush, pollution-free, open space. The setting could have easily been among our rice paddies in the Philippines. But we have yet to transform our fields into venues for exotic luncheons such as this. What a joy it was to eat, surrounded by nature with tiny crisscrossing brooks, in the presence of several ponds, and a thousand blooming lotuses.
Over food we talked more about the similarities of certain words in Pilipino and Balinese — “ulo” for “head,” “pinto” for “door,” “mura” for “cheap,” among others. Ngura likewise continued to map out in words what we ought to experience in Bali: a temple by the lake, a temple by the sea, their famous beaches — and of course, at the end of the catalogue of must-do activities, the Balinese spa.
Lots of signs pointed our way to this field that designated the various spa entrances. According to our guide what makes these popular among tourists is the length of time meant for each visit: two hours minimum, with an hour of body massage, half an hour for what is called “body lotion,” and another half hour for a flower bath.
Having savored the home-cooked lunch, we proceeded on our journey. Headed for Nusa Dua, we passed by what seemed like a rotunda, with a statue at the center of it. The installation, according to Ngurah, “guarded our tongues.” For it was how one spoke that measured trust in their culture. A good talk between two people meant they could be friends, and a conversation that went awry between them was an indication that they could become enemies.
Strangely enough, this conversation about conversations segued into cremation and how the Balinese people resisted talking about their dead. Perhaps the topic was introduced to our minds because we had just noticed a sign that read “crematorium.” How interesting to learn that the longer a dead loved one remains fresh in one’s memory, the more he or she must wait before entering paradise. It is absolutely necessary, then, to completely forget the dearly departed, in order for them to find peace — almost as if enduring memory is a kind of prison for the wandering Balinese soul.
Nusa Dua means “two islands.” And the pleasure of the place also comes in twos: luxury and tranquility. A cradle of five-star hotels, it’s a prime destination for tourists in search of the peace that comes with pristine coasts, coupled with topnotch service from the surrounding spas and exclusive restaurants. While it isn’t impossible to find some budget accommodation in the area, it possesses a lushness that is understandably exclusive to the socially privileged. Nearby, within walking distance of the peninsular beauty that is Tanjung Benoa, our boutique hotel was ideally located. Nusa Dua also has in its vicinity a beach whose waters are of such a particular calmness that Indonesian farmers can successfully grow the most delicate seaweed there, desired all over the country.
Then there is Ubud — magical, enchanting Ubud!
The community we visited, was not so much composed of houses with art in them, but of galleries that looked like houses: there was no doubt that painting was simply a way of life for the people who lived here. Variations of the “Tree of Life” were painted, framed and hung on the various walls of Ubud, almost as if every resident here had his or her own rendition of the famous image.
And if another activity in this town could match painting in ubiquity, it would be shopping — from antiques to modern masterpieces of art, the latest design in clothes to whimsical trinkets, decorative objects to souvenir items. Prices vary widely, and bargaining is the norm. We took a stab at it, laughed a lot, but remained polite.
Their marketplaces are full of interesting items, to say the least: all this dynamic commerce perimetered by statues and stone sculptures and arches wide and narrow, high and low.
And with so many temples everywhere, it was impossible not to chance upon a religious ceremony or two. While we were lucky enough to run into a traditional wedding — everyone was dressed in sarongs and malongs, as if at a gala affair — we chose not to intrude pm the solemnity of this ritual with our visiting gaze.
We continued our enjoyable ride. The countryside, rich in thick and luxuriant vegetation, was very green and serene. We also got to drive past Bali’s own rice terraces, though they were not as dramatic, I must admit, as our very own in Banaue. Still, inspiring nonetheless. This was the route to Mengwi, where the Royal Temple was located, the second largest in Bali according to the guide, built in 1634.
We were totally awed by the Tanah Lot Temple near the sea — surely the most exquisite one we would get to see in this lifetime. Dramatically settled on a massive rock, it would turn into an island at high tide. My French friend called it “the Mont Saint-Michel of Bali.” It was such a knockout beauty that one could easily ignore the crowd of tourists hogging all the space around the temple.
For the trip’s denouement, our tour guide informed us, “We’ll soon be on our way to Batu Bolong, another temple which is closer to where we are and perhaps proceed to Dalalat, another marvelous temple.” As evening would soon be upon us, we opted to save it for another time. Besides, who wants to move on and see another temple on the very same afternoon, when one is still admiring the beauty of a combination of nature’s best and man’s genius?
On the road once again, we eventually saw warungs, the Balinese equivalent of our sari-sari stores. Cramming an entire tour into one day managed to parch our throats so we treated ourselves to esteler, a milk drink that is quite similar to our halo-halo. So it seemed the Balinese and the Filipino have more in common than a handful of words — savoring the same tastes and sharing a rich heritage of similar religious experiences.
We thought we could cap the day off at Kuta, to at least catch a glimpse of what sort of nocturnal parties the Balinese youth engage in. But, exhausted from all that travel, we honestly thought the scene wasn’t for us.
We then retreated for home to join Indah Kartika, director of sales and marketing of the Ramada Resort, where she hosted a relaxing dinner on her property. The food changed every night, and on that particular evening, barbecue was on the menu — a superb selection of meats, seafood and vegetables, fresh and juicy, tender as the memories we’ve made on the island.
With a bit of grease on our lips and Bali on our minds, we took a leisurely walk under the stars, considering ourselves blessed to be under the Indonesian sky on our merry way to one of the spas we had chosen earlier.
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Singapore Airline flies directly four times daily from Manila to Singapore, with the most convenient connections to Denpasar (Bali) twice every day. For more information, contact Rita Dy, manager, marketing communications and services, at 756-8899 or visit their website www.singaporeair.com.