Bali, it’s not about the beach
Lightly packed, I walked through the exit doors of Denpasar International and was greeted by air so humid, I could touch it. Apart from family holidays and time spent working abroad, this was my first trip planned, booked and paid for by me. Up to this moment my mind had imagined a standard issue vacation, made up of days spent with my mood elevated by the cocktail of the day while burying my toes into the sandy beaches. I had no idea that over the next ten days I would walk back through those same doors in love with a culture so different to my own, but so connected to me.
Standing in front of a wall made of smiling faces holding names, I could feel droplets of sweat forming as if I had just run ten kilometres. I found my last name; one with spelling that surpasses many academics, but was surprisingly correct. Newman would be my guy for the next ten days and after an enthusiastic handshake, the only word I could say to him was ‘bed’.
Many people complain about jet lag, for me it was a gift. 5am I would wake each day without aid and make my way down to the pool overlooking terraced fields of rice, which were slowly being lit by the sun climbing up over the palms. Receiving polite waves from the field workers who were arriving for work, I sat with my arms crossed on the edge of the pool, completely relaxed.
Newman came to find me after I finished my outdoor breakfast, which was made up of fresh fruit and other natural treats, a meal that truly deserved to be labelled organic. Having my own guide was a blessing, it became a personal trip. I was free to explore Bali without route or time constraints and let me listen to all the knowledge that Newman had to share. From coffee tastings, caves and volcanoes to temples, beaches and forests – it wasn’t the attractions that touched you, it was the deep spiritual community seen through thousands of offerings placed outside every door, the functional chaos of a traffic system and the high level of work ethic that left you humbled.
One day in particular was when I found myself amongst hundreds of locals who were visiting the Tampak Siring Temple for a purification ritual. Usually one might become claustrophobic in this type of situation, but being right in the middle of a tradition so special, it beyond calming.
Feeling my mind shift from what I originally had in mind, the rest of the trip spent learning about the food I was eating from those who prepared it over relying on the menu and interacting with the locals rather than simply people watching as many visitors tend to do. This change in direction led to the better part of my experience, like spontaneously jumping on a yacht and sailing to Nusa Lembongan for the day. Finding the unexpected can come from a ten minute chat with the skipper about the lay of the land, while sipping on an ice-cold Bintang, the perfect rough guide for any destination.
Rather than jumping on a tour bus to see the expected, try bargain for a scooter, exchange something African for a hat and find your own route to a deserted beach, while making friends on the way.
