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

Arts, Crafts and Volcanoes

Driving in Bali is an experience in itself. The streets are generally very narrow, barely enough for two cars to pass. As many Balinese travel on scooters which are a bit slower than the cars it is the usual practice to sound the horn as one comes up behind a scooter. Overtaking (or as they often do, undertaking) any vehicles is done whenever you can, even if there is oncoming traffic!
Negotiating intersections is done by proceeding cautiously through - the traffic doesn't move very fast and just seems to merge and somehow it all happens OK. Despite a few near misses, at least we survived. Some obviously don't, as the "crash art" along the side of the main Denpasar Bypass road illustrates. This reminds you that driving in Bali, where the rules of the road are almost as esoteric as the religion, requires total concentration (that is why on the tours there is a guide AND a driver), an enjoyment of gamesmanship, and a sense of humor. In this island of gods and demons, most of the demons can be met on the roads!

We travelled along Balis' only multi-lane road to the town of Batubulan, famous for its cultural dances. The mornings performance was of the barong dance. Through five acts, and backed by a traditional gamelan orchestra, the dance depicts the eternal conflict between Ratu Barong, the faithful guardian of the community, who looks like an overdressed cross between a lion and a pekinese dog, and Rangda, the demonic mistress of the graveyard.
At the height of the drama, Barong's entranced acolytes turn their serpentine-bladed krises (a long dagger) upon themselves, usually with no ill effect.

(left) Kathryn with the gamelan orchestra.

The gamelan is the traditional Balinese music. Intruments are percussion, such as gongs, drums, metallophones, or xylophones, as well as bamboo flutes. The whole sound is rather odd to western ears, sounding rather random. However careful listening reveals the complex rhythms of the Balinese music.
(right) Kathryn with one of the colourful dancers from the barong dance.

Andrew can't help himself, and just has to have a go on the unusual instruments.

Moving on we stopped and watched the silversmiths of Celuk at work. The intricacies of the work has to be seen to be believed - ranging from small ornate rings and earrings, to large delicate works of art, 15-20 cm in size. Here we bought a small silver goblet as a gift for Leonies mother.

The next stop took us through the town of Mas, famous for its woodcarvings. We stopped and watched them at work and viewed one of the many galleries. Again, the works range in size from the tiny to the extremely large. Some of the bigger works, might take the carver a year to complete. As well as traditional Hindu and Balinese themes, there is an increasing demand for "western" topics - the Balinese will carve anything you want. Timbers used include the fine grained ebony, sandlewood, crocodile wood, and, for the more mass produced carvings, the local softwood.

The rest of the morning was taken up with the drive up the slope of Mount Batur - a still active volcano! Along the way we stopped at several road side markets, but, as we were running short of rupiah, weren't able to buy much.

Mount Batur is a very old volcano, which, sometime in the past, has collapsed, leaving a great caldra, with a new volcano growing inside, and a lake. It's a bit hard to see in the photo of Leonie and Kathryn, with Mount Batur in the background, but there is smoke and steam coming out the vent on the slope of the inner cone.
We had lunch at one of several resteraunts and hotels perched on the rim of the old volcano. It was kind of weird looking out the window from our resteraunt at the volcano, seeing the barren slope where, perhaps not that long ago, lava had flowed freely.

Returning down the slope in the afternoon, we pass Goa Gajah or The Elephant Cave. One of the great antiquities, this shrine, carved as a tunnel into the side of the rock face, represents a spectacular sight. Leonie is obliged to hire a purple sarong (she was only wearing shorts, and as this is a sacred site, her legs needed to be covered), and we buy offerings from the old lady at the entrance. Our guide takes us to the shrine and sprinkles us with holy water before we enter into the tunnel. Dating back to the 8th century, this is one of Bali's few Buddhist religious sites, and yet both inside and outside there are also many Hindu objects and shrines. When we emerge from the cave, the old lady had a dozen or so young children around her. They sit in a pavilion singing. Nearby there is a small shrine housing a 1000-year old statue of the Buddhist goddess Hariti, the protector of children. There is a large pool and natural spring with the water spouts carved as water nymphs.
The whole experience of this place was rather surreal, on reflection. Yet this is part of the contradiction that is Bali. Back up in the car park as we prepare to leave, we are again assailed by peddlers and hawkers, which snaps us out of our time-warp and brings us back to the present.

Driving on back towards out hotel, we again pass through Mas. This time I can get a photo of the thirty-three foot stone statue of the exceptionally well-fed Buddha in the square at the main cross-roads in the town. Most Balinese towns of any size (and even some of the smaller ones) have a statute of some sort, usually some Hindu figure, in the center of town. This one is just too cute to ignore.

And so we arrive back at Legian. It is mid afternoon, and a good time to just relax by the pool with a bottle of Bintang (one of the local brews) until its time for dinner. I am beginning to get a bit more adventurous with eating, and I try a traditional Balinese buffet. The spices are delicate yet obvious and quite tasty. I decide I want to learn how to cook these meals (well, it would have been nice to know). Tomorrow is Sunday, and we plan a trip into Denpasar itself.

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