On the stairway to the main entrance of another wonderful temple we happened to see some cock fights. It seems to be forbidden, but it also seems to belong to certain ceremonies, so they still occur. What did we see? A number of men (20) enjoying themselves as schoolboys, preparing two cocks. They attach a knife blade the size of a little finger to the back of one of the paws of the cock. When this is done the women (10) come with offerings and perform some ceremonial actions. Then the cocks are held in front of each other and the owners try to make them aggressive towards the other cock. Doing this they pick feathers of their owwn bird and let it be picked by the opponent. In the mean time the other men are betting, money is going from one hand into the other. Then the cocks are released and the fight begins. In hardly two minutes one the animals lays dying on the ground. No furhter comments.
On Bali, not in the Muslim parts of Indonesia, you can during all day see women walking round carrying a tray with a number of incense sticks and a pile of small baskets (10 cms diameter). Each basket contains flowers, some rice, paper ornaments and more of the kind. On a great number of places the lady will put down a basket in order to please the gods and deamons. On small altars on the most unexpected places, on desks is shops and offices, on garden walls, on the pavement and very often in the middle of the doorway. These seem to be to withhold the bad spirits from entering the premises. It’s my guess that without these there wouldn’t be so many street dogs. Since the people don’t remove the offerings you often see whole piles. Not where the dogs can reach.
The temple flower. The flower has five petals, diameter app. 5 cms, is white (although there are other varieties) and has a yellow haert. A very simple flower, but remarkably beautiful. It grows from a pot plant, but this can grow out to a tree of 10 mtrs height. You see it everywhere, on peoples’ grounds, on temple sites, along the streets, in gardens. The plant gives flowers all year round and you’ll find the flowers in women’s hair, in a basket on your table, on the side of the bath tub, on your pillow, in offerings, simply everywhere. During our visit to another botanical garden we learned that the plant originates from Central America, but we have seen it in Thailand and Laos and on the other islands as well and for us it may well be the symbol of the Balinese.
The flower is also known by the following names: Frangipani, Cempaka, Kamboja, Kemboja and in Bali as jipun [dzji:’pu:n].
In people’s hair.
Even behind the ear of the sole stone temple cyclist in Bali.
Zou het griep zijn? Ik voelde me in elk geval niet goed. Hoofdpijn, koortsig, veel niezen, niet meer uit mijn ogen kunnen kijken..Na twee dagen paracetamol begonnen we toch aan een allergie te denken. Hooikoorts, waar ik door de jaren heen steeds minder last van heb, een voordeel van ouder worden, kan het hier niet zijn. Maar er staan vast andere pollen in bloei. Een apotheek kan wellicht helpen. Een ervaren Westers apotheekbezoekster legde uit, dat bloeiende rijstvelden eveneens allergische reacties kunnen oproepen en dat een middel met anti-hystaminen (kwam me bekend voor) behulpzaam zou kunnen zijn. Samen met de apthekeres kwamen we tot medicatie, die inderdaad mijn vervelende ziektegevoel heeft weggenomen.
In Lombok our spokesman on the subject told us that a monthly wage in a hotel was 100.000 Rp. (A good 8 Euros). I now doubt his trustworthiness. In Bali wages are three to four times higher than on Lombok. This could be explained by the level of the tourism industry and be true. Fact is that Bali looks more wealthy than Lombok and Sumbawa. An Australian owner of a very beautiful accommodation where we stayed blamed the visa policy of the Indonesian government for the decrease in tourism. He said that they had almost recovered from the effects of the bombs, when through these measures (a tourist visa, obtainable on arrival, doesn’t last longer than a month) there was an enormous drop in numbers again.
From the heights of the crater rim we descended towards Ubud, where we have been before. Partly we had to find our way with the map only, as we didn’t follow our route book. But after having been here for almost a month we understand better how things work, and we got there without any problem. Now we live in a comfortable bungalow in a nice garden again, and I’m barefooted again too. We want to see more art here and maybe we’ll find some nice thing ta carry home with us.
How do we find our places to stay? The route book has suggestions, there is the Lonely Planet and travellers exchange experiences. And the rest is just trial and error. Ask around, check rooms etc.
We had enjoyed ourselves soo much on our stay in higher and cooler places. When we left Munduk (800 mtrs) in the morning it was nice and dry, even a bit sunny. We had chartered a little van to take us up the incredibly steep first 8 kms to an altitude of 1200 mtrs. From there it was possible to ride. At noon we arrived in Candikunung and found a hotel. Old bungalows, but overlooking one of the two lakes in the crater. The village itself, and the road towards it, are located on the rim of the crater. Very nice views, at least, before the clouds and the rain came. Before that we had visited a marvellous temple, partly in the lake, where we witnessed a ceremony for the dead. The Balinese people live from one ceremony to the other, they smile themselves when they tell you. At birth, at the age of six months, when the hair is cut, when the teeth are filed (yes, correct), with weddings and several for the deceased. First they bury the dead, later they dig them up and cremate the remains. The ashes are put on the altars in their homes. And at each occasion a big ceremony, with lots of people eating whole pigs and drinking lots of rice wine. Nice people, these Balinese.
But no further ceremony for us, the rains came, the view was gone and the temperature dropped too uncomfortable levels. We did manage to visit a very large and beautifully kept botanic garden, but then we returned to our little dwelling, where I put on long trousers and a shirt over my t-shirt. First time this month, I even put on regular shoes instead of walking barefooted in sandals. Our plan to stay there for an extra day was killed by these facts, as you will understand.
Ceremonies all the time.
As a former geography and tourism teacher I should have realized better: when hunid air from the ocean passes over an island and is forced upwards again a mountainslope, it will cool down and the vapour will condens: the result are clouds and rain. From the coast we had seen it every day, the mountaintops (there are two main volcanoes on Bali, the highest one erupted in 1963) were hidden in the clouds almost all day, especially in the afternoons. So when we climbed the mountain road we had to shelter ourselves for the rain for more than an hour. Then the slope up to Munduk was so steep, that when we finally got there in a rainfree period, we were as wet from transpiration as we would have been when it had rained. Very hard. In the guesthouse (simple but nice) we laundered our clothes, and not to our surpise, they didn’t dry at all. That is a thing we are already used to, the air is so humid that everything is moist, nothing will get really dry. Only in an accommodation with airconditioning it is possible to get your things dry in one night. So sometimes in the morning we dress in very cool cycle wear.
Na een heel gemakkelijke tocht, de beloning voor de eerdere inspanning, zijn we vanmiddag in Ubud aangekomen. Hier waren we 4 april ook al, maar veel te kort naar mijn zin. We hebben toen een heel mooi museum bezocht, maar er zijn er zeker nog een stuk of drie die ik wil bezoeken. Frans heeft zelf de route naar hier uitgestippeld en dat was een succes. De sfeer is hier ook leuk. Een beetje alternatief, neigend naar chic. Te vergelijken met de Jordaan in Amsterdam? Veel kleinschalige winkeltjes en galerietjes. Leuke restaurantjes en een mooie bungalow. Aangenamer dan Kuta, waar het heel erg toeristisch is en veel meer gericht op het strandleven. We willen hier tot maandag blijven. Dan terug naar Kuta, waar we dinsdag helaas weer naar het vliegveld moeten..
Hoewel ik eerder beweerd heb, dat ik liever in de bergen ben dan aan zee, viel dat dit keer niet echt mee. Woensdag gingen we vol goede moed weg uit ons luxe verblijf in Kalibukbuk. We beginnen met een uurtje schuilen voor de regen. Daarna: almaar stijgen, van zeeniveau naar 800 m. De panorama’s waren weer ‘ het mooiste dat ik ooit gezien heb’, maar mijn hemdje is nog nooit zo zwaar geweest van mijn eigen lichaamsvocht. Dit was wel de zwaarste toer van deze vakantie. De kick achteraf maakt veel goed. Geen enkele keer afgestapt!!!
Gisteren, donderdag dus, moesten we nog 400m verder stijgen en de aankondiging van hellingen van 20% vonden we voldoende excuus voor een bemo, een vrachtwagentje, of busje, dat als taxi fungeert voor de fietsen en de fietsers. De eerste 8 km hebben we op deze manier overbrugd. Daarna 14 km fietsen over de graad van de berg met prachtig uitzicht. Overnachting in een vergane gloriehotel met mooi uitzicht op het meer, maar jammer genoeg hebben we niet lang genoten van het uitzicht. Het begon te regenen en van de mooie botanische tuin die we wilden bezoeken, hebben we vervolgens ook maar een stukje gezien. Met een verkouden, enigszins koortsig hoofd lag ik om 21.00 uur in bed. Zo zijn de bergen geen aardigheid.
Uitzicht vanaf de veranda op het kratermeer, onder het wolkendek.
Panorama’s.
Tempel in het meer.