SWEATING IT OUT IN SANUR

The last night in Ubud the rains tried to keep us in but what's a soaker or two?? On the street, schoolgirls stopped us for a homework assignment --- interview the visitor to practice their English. Odd thing is we've been singled out on the streets of several other countries for the same thing; do we have a "T" on our foreheads, for  "Teacher"? The other odd thing is when locals try to guess our country, #1 guess is Germany, followed by Australia, France, and even Holland. Pat says it's the blue eyes and sturdy walking shoes instead of flip-flops. Canadians are rare around here.

We have moved on to the shore town of Sanur. It has the busy-ness of the dreaded chaotic attituded Kuta, but is swarming with -- ahem--- older people. Less open drinking, the live music is reggae and jazz, and fewer motorbikes racing around. Our $20 room (Gustav Bali Homestay) may be the best combination of location, attentive staff, and a/c comfort. (We haven't seen English-language TV for many weeks and no TV at all for the last many places. Who won the SuperBowl??!) 

Big feature here is the very pleasant 4 km. walkway along the beach/shore. A lot of it is shaded and every direction is scenic. As usual, there was a procession going on, with crowds chanting and then loading a golden shrine on to an outrigger that glided to sea. Picturesque and mysterious, as always in Bali. Also on the walk is the original chain hotel --- the Hyatt Bali from 1974, now closed for upgrading to compete with the mega-hotels nearby. A hundred acres of lush mature greenery and hundreds of metres of waterfront; make your booking now!! Many lavish gated mansions, expensive spa and yoga clubs, and colourful outriggers that used to catch fish but now snag Japanese or Europeans on 2-week holidaze.

I have noticed a long-standing Italian presence here. There are hundreds of classic Vespa scooters, dozens of old Simca minicars, pasta palaces, and wildly gesturing stereotypical Italians on the streets. Young and old. Any theories out there?

Two unusual sightings yesterday. Our  first sighting of a MAN making the ritual offering and prayer: it has been 100% women doing this sacred duty. And secondly,  the ATM saying we can't have any more rupiah! We are drenched in sweat daily from the heat and humidity, but nothing makes you sweat like being broke in Bali. Maybe it's a hint we should go home??

NEW LIFE, OLD LIFE, WILDLIFE

We've been in Ubud an unusually long 6 days and are ready to move on. One of the worst parts of travel is not being able to cook our own meals, but there has been a favourite cheapo diner with an open-air view of the contrasts below. I read that there are 8 million motorbikes sold in Indonesia every year, and they all seem to be in this neighbourhood at once! Thousands of small shops clog every street and alley, selling the same  tourist souvenirs. There is some social conscience but the degradation of the environment is accelerating with garbage strewn in waterways and criminal waste of water and electricity. Most men seem to be pushing taxi rides and tours, most women seem to be doing heavy physical labour. Kids do paper mache but on a huge scale!! The artistic daily offerings to the gods, on palm/bamboo, are everywhere (even on car hoods) but I think it's a losing battle to the gods of consumption. That said, Pat and I hate shopping but I'm good at  bargaining and we will be taking some colourful fabric back home.

In contrast to the new Bali, the old Bali is in view from our room's balcony, just 100 feet from the chaotic road. The rice paddies have been planted with thousands of sprouts, like green hair plugs in mud. The rows are straight, the bare spots filled, and the 3-month wait til harvest is on. Just like at home there's great bird watching in the fruit and palm trees. These brown birds have the sweetest song, like our cardinals. The Cattle Egret stalks the paddy. The Java Kingfisher flashes a red beak like a punk with a switchblade. The creepy Giant Wood spider hasn't eaten for days, even with his world-wide-web.

Hard to pigeon hole the landlord's pet chicken. It sleeps next to their dog and eats Indonesian sacred rice. Why did this chicken cross the road?? It went from old to new, like the rest of the place.

SKIRTING THE OUTSKIRTS IN SKIRTS

Continuing our search for the cultural/artistic/spiritual side of Bali, we watched kids playing soccer in the mud. We found out later different teams were playing all day til dark, in the slop. What world culture! But then we spent the day in a 80-km radius of Ubud exploring the arts that made this island notable. Villages that used to be separate have now been swallowed by Ubud sprawl; they specialize in wood carving, silver smithing, stone religious statues, and those gaudy but blindingly colourful wall-size paintings.

First stop of real interest was at a batik factory. Outside, women painstakingly dotted the i's and loomed the t's. Inside, the variety and quantities of batik clothing and accessories made your head spin in technicolour. Upstairs were hundreds of batiky wall-hangings in both traditional and modern themes. Could easily spend the whole day appreciating.

Next was a so-called agrotourism corner of a backroad. Guides explained the native spices and fruits from ginger to cloves to tea to coffee. The yummy specialty? --- luwak coffee! They feed raw coffee buds to a mongoose-like creature called a luwak. Overnight the beans ferment and digest, then the luwak poops them out in the morning and they are made into the most expensive gourmet coffee you can buy! (Try this with your dog at home??) Visitors can free sample 21 other teas and coffees (luwak too precious, only a few pounds made per day and they are --- gobbled up!) Like a wine tasting, and we actually liked the saffron and coconut teas.

Then to Goa Gajah Elephant cave/temple. Amazing history. Sublime spirits carved in huge boulders. Beautiful fountains. Ancient hill trails and tree roots. We have seen variations of these in all the southeast Asia countries. Then up steep roads to the UNESCO-protected rice terraces that can stretch from mountain to the sea.

Last highlight of the day is the "Mother Temple" at Besakih. Sort of equivalent to Islam's Mecca, this is the holiest place for Balinese Hindus. Our welcome was marred by an attempt at extortion --- a compulsory "donation" to the temple. Pat says the gatekeepers and I exchanged insults, no donation paid, no police called. We have had to cover up our bare legs on these temple visits --- how do I look in red? The Mother Temple is at 1000 metres altitude and cloudy with threatening skies snagged on the heights. It was a high holy day so we could not enter the inner sanctum. But the structures are impressive and the atmosphere reverent. The guy must have seen me coming at the exit --- notice the takeout pizza slices!

Overall, a very interesting and reassuring day that Balinese spirit is still strong. In truth, we spent 80% of the day in a van grinding through ridiculously heavy traffic. Spiritual quest or bad car-ma?