Taro's Travels

Evidence of worship is everywhere in Bali. You can't travel more than a few hundred meters without seeing a Hindu temple of some size and description, the footpaths are carpeted with offerings on squares of banana leaf or in containers of woven palm or cardboard, and not only does every Hindu house have a shrine, but so does every car. The major temples of the region are to the east. There's a standard walking route which passes them of perhaps 12 km total, and this (with some minor variations) I used.

Immediately east of Ubud the road serpentined its way up a shady vine-choked slope I would not have been capable of cycling up, onto a plateau of rice paddies. At the town of Galiang I turned south to see the first of the temples, Pura Penataran Sasih, the Moon Temple with a (supposedly) 2000 year old bronze drum, the "Moon of Pejeng". The striking face of this drum is gong-like, with a star in the middle, and about half a foot of edge which does not cover the resonating cylinder. It was originally thought to have been cast in Vietnam owing to its design and construction, but is now reckoned to have been locally done since casting fragments have been found nearby.

The temple platforms appear modern in construction as they use the red-brick and rendered concrete common in the area (in fact you see maintenance and construction taking place at quite a few temples around). The pendeta's platform in the outer sanctum had gilded and lacquered bas reliefs, carvings, and a chair, however - lovely intricate work - and the platforms in the inner sanctum bore a number of ancient statues (both Hindu and Buddhist) and lingas.

A couple of hundred meters away, with its back on the same road was the younger Pura Pusering Jagat, which somehow _felt_ older - perhaps due to less upkeep, perhaps due to having no paving in its inner sanctum. There had still been maintenance done, however as the side of the steps leading up to the temple evidenced - a ragged zig-zag of greenish-brown stone, covered by a neat zig-zag of light-grey concrete.

Further down the road opposite a stretch of rice paddies, the Archaeological Museum held an disappointingly small collection of artifacts in cases, but a courtyard with an impressive collection of stone sarcophagi - most egg-(or perhaps womb)-like. They waved me through without ticketing as I entered, and it was with some trepidation in the last building that I saw the attendant sit down at a desk and take out a book of tickets (the price turned out to be very cheap). I had chicken soup at the diner opposite, enjoying the scenery and risking not only Bali Belly (not yet, touch wood*) but apparently bird flu.

Pura Yeh Pulu - off the main road, and not well signposted - is a single sunken path with flower-edged rice paddies on one side and ancient weathered figures carved into the cliff face on the other - a beautiful setting. There, a wizened priestess performed a ceremony with me to the carving at the end; the principal deity of the temple, Ganesh. Part of this ceremony involved drinking water taken from the holy spring, and given that Ganesh is the God of Wisdom and the dire warnings given against drinking unboiled water, you may think it somewhat contradictory that I drank it. Politeness and ceremony won out, though I ingested as little as I could, and the fact that the priestess was ancient is a consolation.

A kilometer or two away on the main road again, Goa Gajah (Elephant Cave) consisted of a Hindu Temple, the earthquake-ravaged remains of a Buddhist temple, twenty or thirty shops, some motorbikes belonging (I presume) to the shopkeepers, a carpark with parking for several hundred vehicles, and three minivans. All the places I've visited have been quiet - Where there's a visitor's book, the last Australian to visit each has been five or more days ago - but the commercial area of Goa Gajah was frankly depressed and depressing - an empty carnival. They used to get 500 or more people a day; now they get less than 50. I was the first visitor to the archaeological museum today, too.

Despite this, Goa Gajah was the highlight of the day, with steps leading down to a pool with ancient statues (representing the seven sacred rivers of India) pouring water, a manmade cave with moss-covered carvings outside, the remains of what had once been a Buddhist temple carved into the cliff-face, and rice paddies above.

[*Yes, I know I wrote in a previous entry that I wasn't superstitious. I reserve the right to be contradictory]