Bali: Temple Wonders
I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, starting with Saturday. It was a day of visual overload – a road trip with sites on Bali, the second of our three Indonesian islands. We docked (as opposed to anchoring offshore) but at a commercial pier, in the city of Benoa, aka Denpasar but away from anything we’d want to go visit. On the Road Even before we reached the first of two temples on the itinerary, I was totally agog at our glimpse at Balinese life gleaned from driving along the narrow two-lane roads. The excursion was called ‘Temple Wonders.’ I want to get this out, so I will tell you about Parts 1 and 3 of the excursion and leave the best for a subsequent post.
I usually travel to first world cities, where I always grab Shop Window Shots. You’ve seen a few this trip, but most of our itinerary isn’t conducive. So I’ve added another foto feature. You’ve already seen a few examples from other countries, but here are Saturday’s shots on the new theme: ‘Living Above the Shop.’ We went by one emporium (not this one) called Car Wash Auto Bridal Club. Maybe a combined husband-wife business?
Bali is made up of 320 ‘villages,’ and we drove through many on our way out of town. Some had far more commerce along the roads, others had many private homes or compounds… but there was always commerce nearby, even if it was just an umbrella table with bottled drinks or fruit or some snack item and one person sitting there for hours on end waiting for a customer. Remember, the average yearly income here is $12,500. Further out in the country, there were more trees but still many roadside businesses, selling building materials and fruit, or stone (probably concrete) statues or ornaments for temples. Because there are temples everywhere — including at private homes.
Though the larger private homes were behind walls, we could see over them a bit from the bus: I said ‘compounds’ because a family home might consist of four small buildings, probably one or two rooms each: One each for grandparents, parents and children, entertainment (I assume that includes cooking), and temple. Yes, each home has its own temple, either tiny or more elaborate. While the rest of Indonesia is predominantly Muslim, Bali is 85% Hindu. Being Hindu himself, our guide Atma told us much about Hinduism, about which I knew nothing. I was on the wrong side of the bus to photograph those compounds, but here are a few of the nicer single houses… though all must be multi-generational, because that is the way in so many parts of Asia.
The winged pagoda decorations at the top are everywhere — even the roofs of the toll booths on the highway. Our first stop was a ‘batik factory’ in Tohpati Village. Not exactly. It was a group of racks with cloth showing the stages of making batik explained not by a batik maker but by our guide, Atma. He is wearing the traditional Balinese man’s outfit. By the way, only Balinese traditional dress on men and women may be worn in the temples. Mostly, this was a shop stop and I took advantage, but to a much lesser degree than some of my busmates.
Balinese Buffet
Except for a passenger slipping on wet flagstone and breaking her leg after the meal, the unexpected luncheon included in our Temple Wonders tour was excellent. Beautiful surroundings, food beautifully presented and tasty, hosted by a ‘function venue’ that used to be a royal palace.
We were welcomed by monkeys adorned with black-and-white modesty skirts to cover them because it was a Hindu holiday. White, for the good spirits. Black for the bad. Like cowboy hats in old westerns. There are offerings in their laps. More on that in a later post.
Pride of place, right inside the entrance, went to this immaculate pistachio moto. Motos and scooters abound. Don’t know how the drivers and riders survive in the traffic.
Viking doesn’t always make it clear when a meal or snack is included in a tour, and we are positively not allowed to take food off the ship due to local governments’ agricultural regulations; some ports even look inside our tote bags for contraband food as we leave the ship. If the off-the-ship snack is fresh fruit or an uncooked snack, I do not eat it. I did eat a banana fritter in Nuka Hiva since it had been fried. That was six weeks ago, so I think I survived. In the case of the Balinese buffet, I did eat everything because it was a bona fide food establishment with, one hopes, some semblance of health regulations.
My food paranoia stems from personal experience: I got horribly sick many years ago either from drinking tap water or eating a falafel sandwich crammed with beautiful fresh vegetables — in, of all places, Paris. There didn’t appear to be many Rooms to Let, so I drew the conclusion this was a destination wedding destination with this one Bridal Suite. I could be wrong. But I’d definitely stay there if given the opportunity.
The public toilet was next door, behind this wonderful door gate.
Beyond it was an entire small courtyard with an outdoor shower and a small porch that covered the one ‘commode’ and the sink with nice soaps and towels. This was definitely not the ‘Asian toilet’ we have been warned about but, to date, I have been spared the experience. There’s always India…
The Not So Grande Finale of Tanah Lot
Skipping the great stop in the middle, our last ‘Wonder’ stop was the most photographed site in all of Bali, the 16th-century Tanah Lot temple made of ‘impressive black lava…perched dramatically on a narrow rocky promontory that juts into the ocean.’ At high tide, the waters rise up and the temple appears to float, unattached to the land.
To be the most photographed site it must be the most visited, right? Right. After running a very long gauntlet of local vendor shops (including two Ralph Lauren Polo stores filled with Western clothes), we were greeted by this couple...
… then we proceeded through the main gate…
… then the ‘split gate’…
… and, voilà, we arrived!
The colored umbrellas at the lower left are offerings. The tide was coming in so the promontory looks detached from the land.
Shortly after, the overcast skies burst open and everyone ducked for cover. Except me. Under my trusty little umbrella, I splish-splashed my way back to the bus.
Traffic back to the ship in Benoa, only 9 miles in the pouring rain, was typical, i.e., horrific, and we got ‘home’ almost two hours late. When I walked up the gangway at 8:15, an officer told me there were still 200 guests unaccounted for. But it was one of the best excursion days so far, thanks to all the roadside lifestyle and culture and the exquisite Taman Ayun Royal Temple, which deserves its own separate post… stay tuned. #
