or, "NO, I don't want a #@%%*$# Bemo, massage, post card, plait your hair, bracelet, watches, money belt, necklace, magic mushroom or jiggy jig!"

Out and About in Denpasar

Stepping outside the hotel we are beseiged by hawkers and touters. We have decided to brave the taxis (having enquired from the hotel reception on the approximate fare from Legian to Denpasar). Fortunately there is a taxi rank not far from the hotel entrance, and we quickly find one of the several drivers willing to take us on our (initially) one way trip to Denpasar.

The taxi takes us through the winding back-streets of Legian out onto the main road to Denpasar. Even early on a Sunday there is much activity as shop owners begin to open up their stores. We pass pleasanteries with out taxi-driver, although he does not speak very good English. Then I notice a sign in the taxi: there is some Indonesian, followed by an English translation in large red letters:

"Please inform you driver if driving erratically".

Denpasar is a reasonably modern city, as far as Bali goes. It sprawls out across much of the southern plain of the island. Kuta, Legian and Sanur are merely beachside suburbs of Denpasar. There are few tall buildings as local regulations limit the largest to four or five stories. We were told by one guide that they aren't supposed to be built taller than the coconut trees, so as to preserve the tropical island nature of the place, but this wasn't always adhered to.

We are driven down one street after another (there are many one-way streets in the capital) until we are finally driven around Puputan Square to the Bali Musuem (left).

Puputan Square commemorates the mass ritual suicides of the Royal Courts in the face of the invading Dutch in 1906. The Museum was originally built by the Dutch as part of their new policy to preserve Balinese culture instead of obliterating it! The architecture of the museum is itself a subject of this ethnological museum, being various aspects of temple and palace architecture from various regions of Bali. The collection itself is rather extensive, covering the pre-history, right through to post-colonial times, as well as an overview of traditional Balinese life.

(right) Leonie and Andrew with a portly Buddah. Which one's the fat man?

Our guide (wherever you go, there is always someone to show you around.... for a fee, of course) takes us from building to building, from gallery to gallery. In one we meet a couple of Balinese girls who start chatting with us. They are students at the University and often come to the museum to meet tourist and practice their English.

After buying the obligatory souvenirs (some postcards and a book), we head outside into the street to sit and decide what to do next. I'm pretty good with maps, and locate a shopping center only a "short" walk from where we are. We head off down the street. On the way I have Kathryn on my shoulders, which proves a dangerous means of carriage for her. I walked under what I thought was a few leaves hanging down from one of the many trees lining the street. Unfortunately it concealed a thick pruned branch which caught Kathryn just under her eye - a few more centimeters and it could have been worse. After comforting her, to the bemused but slightly concerned looks of some local residents, we continue on to the shops.

There weren't many tourists at this place, it seemed like just a local suburban shopping center thronging with Balinese. There aren't many shops of interest, although we did buy some silver for Kathryn (a broach and a ring). There is another shopping center with a Matahari further on, so we head off there.

When we get there, there is a McDonalds (for us that equals fairly "safe" food). This one was interesting because there was a birthday party in progress. It seemed so familiar to us (afterall, how many of these have we been to with Kathryn), yet so different. The children seemed so orderly. While we couldn't understand what was being said over the amplified microphone, we caught the meaning by watching and listening. Seems birthdays are the same the world over.

We spend the rest of the afternoon in Denpasar at the Matahari shopping - along with just about everybody else on Bali that day, plus a ship load of US sailors in town for a little R&R. The shop assistants (left) were quite taken by Kathryn, and several of them entertained her while Leonie and I went shopping.
They have a quaint way of dealing with customers. When you make a purchase, they make out a docket. You take one copy to the cashier (located sparingly throughout the floor), and line up. Eventually your purchase arrives at the cashier too, and is put in a plastic bag (and lined up with everyone elses). Eventually they get to yours, you hand over your money, and take your purchase. The funny thing is that change isn't always given in notes and coins. The smallest coin denomination we saw was 50Rp. For amounts smaller than that you get boiled sweets in return! (I heard a story of one bloke in a bar who saved all his sweets up and had enough to buy his next drink! And they accepted them OK!)

Denpasar, despite being not so "tourist friendly", does have much to offer, particularly its markets. "Pasar" means market, and Denpasar is full of them. But the others will have to wait until next time. A hair-raising taxi ride later, we are safely back at our hotel, and relaxing by the pool again.

Click on the bemo to go on the trip to Ubud.