Heading for the highlands (prequel)

This day is before the big bridge adventure. We drove into some very familiar hills, clove, cocoa, coffee and nutmeg country. It was only 60 plus kms and that made for a very slow drive. Before that, a very late start, meaning more cycling time, a dip in the sea, then pool and an almost 2 hour lunch in the quaint town of Seririt. Every small Indonesian town must surely have a small Chinese population. Meaning the possibility of getting Chinese food. Seririt is no exception. Small mom and pop shops, a goldsmith or two, and yes a restaurant down a small lane.

My co driver (who didn’t drive at all) was a bit apprehensive at the cleanliness or lack there of, for such an establishment. Never fear I said. I think I dined here in 1991, and have already spotted at least one renovation. There’s a new signboard by the entrance. ‘Such and such a resto, since 1955′ It was here or some other street side stall with cold food and flies for company. As it turned out simple noodles and rice and some veggies were quite good and one quarter the price of eating in touristy Ubud. And yes, the grainy, unfiltered Kopi Bali was spectacular, I had seconds.

An open concept kitchen, great for seeing hands being used for everything, including tasting !

Our newish old Dutch style house in the hills of Munduk. The room was cosy (@ 980 m asl) and the garden, very lush.

Packing cloves for export in Munduk. It's a prime ingredient in some Indo cigarettes

Sunset was a non event for the camera because of a heavy downpour

Sunrise was much better

This morning will be etched in my memory forever, as it was about this time or so 7 am on Saturday 30th April that Paul Lim passed away, and I was up and about looking the the skies trying to capture a crimson sunrise. It was about 18 deg C, the mountain air crisp and refreshing. Paul and I and some friends were mountain bike touring in this very same village way back in 1995, and had to cool of our rims and brakes by dunking the wheels in a rushing stream.

Open the room door and this awaits, the Balinese Pyrenees

Hidden hamlets of north Bali

An old timer's house and car in Munduk

Looking at the scenery and potential for long walks and climbs through the rice fields, one would need at least 3 days in these hills, enjoying the cool rarefied air, but we had done that on previous trips, so a single night with the sounds of a heavy down pour (definitely a first for us) was quite adequate to get reaquainted with Munduk. We had invitations to a village wedding that was going to last 5 days, but politely declined, as we were leaving on the 1st day when only the decorations were being put up. It would have been quite spectacular if we had arrived on the 4th or 5th day.

Coffee cherries

Tanah Barak (red rock) waterfalls after heavy rains. 5 minutes in this water and hypothermia is a given

Lake Tamblingan overflowing, it's temple and surrounding villages inundated. I was knee deep in the icy waters on the village road and made those ripples

Lake Buyan at 1200 m. According to some Balinese friends, it has been raining for the past year !

Heading for the highlands

Next to Bali’s famed beaches, the hills and mountains in the centre of the island are a visual treat if one really goes of the beaten track. The usual tourist spots and view points may be amazing for the first timers but we’ve seen better on our bikes, and this time I really wanted to travel on the road that Lonely Planet 2011 plainly proclaims ‘The Road That’s Never Travelled’ (RTNT) In fact if you have a driver it’ll take some persuasion to get him to try 30 kms of mountain roads that straddles 2 big mountain ranges.

Steep and potholed

Might as well get a map and DIY, although I had second thoughts when exiting a nice smooth main road and  into deep, dark and steep potholed roller coaster country roads that threatened to wreck the car’s ageing suspension, but we had a full tank, our bikes are strapped tight and we prayed a lot. Seeing that the odd old mud splattered Honda Civic that passed by occasionally, that boosted my confidence somewhat. Some inclines were so steep, it was 1st gear all the way, slipping and sliding. sending bits of rock and debris to anyone silly enough to be too close behind us. After half a dozen or so deep ravines, we got to the village of Petang and smooth roads. I recognised the junction to the bridge and only in Bali would a bridge of such proportions be a venue for kids on motorcycles on a Saturday. Cars and bike parked by the side and hawkers selling snacks and corn on the cob.

The 'bridge'

The RTNT comes in handy as a shortcut too as I didn’t want to drive south for 40 kms and then head north another 30 kms just to get to our destination, Lake Batur. Part of the RTNT is Bali’s highest road bridge that was completed in 2007. It connects two mountain villages of no particular significance save for those wanting to drive from the Bedugul and Lake Bratan highlands to the Kintamani and Lake Batur area, and vice versa. Before that, in 2006, I remember cycling into the deepest ravine ever on the island and that took 2 hours to ride out off on the other side.  The bridge was still under construction, it’s massive foundations rising out of the jungle floor. I had started from Ubud at 7 am and did not get back till 6 pm. Another fun recce 110 kms by bicycle first, before attempting a drive through.

A sight to behold, just halfway in to Bali's deepest ravine. Sept. 2006

There's a broken road and a small concrete bridge down there, somewhere

Past Pelaga and Catur, a region of endless coffee plantations, the road joins up with the north south Kintamani route with it’s views of Mt Batur’s 3 volcanic cones and Lake Batur. It started to rain and our views were at best, cloudy and foggy. Down by the crater lake shore there’s a myriad of off road trails into the lava fields. My mission for the next morning was to rediscover one that led to the Bali Aga village of Trunyan, nestled deep under the vertical mountain walls of the crater.

Kedisan village 0700 hrs

Ooops, Can the 16 inch wheels make it ?

After 11 bone jarring kms, Trunyan village with it's new water front promenade

Trunyan is one of many Bali Aga villages spread out over Bali. Most are in remote and hard to reach spots like this, and any outsider can be spotted miles away, even other Balinese,  and especially one with a small green folding bike. The Bali Aga are the island’s original people, distinct from the modern Balinese who came over from Java centuries ago. One of their burial rites and rituals is to leave their dead corpses exposed under a holy banyan tree. Apparently there’s no smell of rotting flesh and kids play with the skulls and bones. Jungle animals aren’t even interested, This is totally abhorrent to other Balinese who have elaborate cremation and sending off ceremonies. Needless to say, Trunyan’s cemetery has been milked dry for it’s tourism ‘potential’ ie $$$.

Mention Trunyan to other Balinese folk and you get 30 minutes of negative comments.

With the new access road, many of the village boatmen who used to charge tourists exhorbitant fees, are not a happy bunch.  The tourists still arrive, as the marketing and publicity for the place can be found in many a hotel lobby. I spent a whole 15 minutes there, snapping away, and the tikit was great for quick getaways each time a villager sized me up, “Where are you from, where are you going, I bring you to see cemetery, have fresh dead body”

Another steep one. 20 years ago this was a rocky foot path, where even our mountain bikes had trouble inching forward. Gradients remain the same.

The 11 km ride back was just as strenuos, but felt a bit faster like all out and back rides do. My ageing tikit does not have a front derailluer but with a smaller 42 T front chainring, I managed to ride up most of the tops of this roller coaster lakeside road.

During many moments of quiet contemplation (I was so early many villagers were not quite up yet) I still could not believe that Paul was gone. We decided on lunch back in Ubud,  just 30 downhill kms away, where we could get wifi and catch up on any news. There were many and after 2 hours nursing a latte in AC comfort, we drove off with heavy hearts to the extreme east of Bali to Tirtagangga, a romantic name for Water of the Ganges. India was continents away, but the Balinese Hindus know how to glorify their ‘water palaces’

Mt Batur 1717 m, rarely seen from the opposite shore

0930 hrs. It's time to wake someone up and get breakfast, I am starved

Mythical pools of clear mountain water, with ornate fountains and statues where the kings harem would bathe, while the king would ponder and decide on which one would be his company for the night. Today it costs Rp 5000 a pop, to gawk at the maiden-less pools. Pay a little more and you can even swim in the ‘tourist pool’ where freshwater crabs will nibble at your feet. It’s not a bad way to spend an afternoon in the boondocks of Bali contemplating a life without wifi, cellphone coverage and being a sardine in a subway train.

The tourist pool at Tirtagangga Water Palace

More faces from Bali

Gals from Ibu Rai's Restaurant, Ubud 1995

With time and a whole lot of patience, it’s wonderful what a sub $200 scanner can do to rejuvenate faded old prints and transparencies, consigned to old shoe boxes in the store room.  I wonder if my old Yashica T6 with it’s Leica lens can still start up. If trip # 29 or 30 to Bali happens soon, I blame it on reminiscing on old images from the early 90s, cheap budget air fares in the low season and a folding bike waiting to explore and re-explore it’s elder siblings favourite hunting, rather cycling grounds.

Kids in the mountains. not immune to hip hop

Hang Loose ??

Legong dance practice twice a week, Munduk 1996

Faces from the road : Bali

Mr Cool, Sr. 2000

2002

2003

Father of owner of Loka House, Ubud, Bali 2006

Pak (Mr) Loka Sr. hangs around his son’s 4 bedroom guest house close to Ubud’s football field most days. It’s not easy conversing with him, as he’s hard of hearing and wouldn’t understand my foreign Indonesian, much less Balinese anyway. We get along with charades. some sign language and a grunt here and there. I don’t think there’s a Balinese malady like amnesia or dementia. We once saw him massaging a man who had chronic back and shoulder pain, and this came in useful when Coleen’s ankle swelled up rapidly after she tripped on a high road kerb.

This was the 2nd day of the 2006 bike trip, not a good start. Apparently through a translator, he said that a quick massage was in order, if not, worse was to come…..drats. He applied some chalk and lime concoction and started using his big and deft hands on the enlarged ankle. High pitched screams from my wife followed……alll was well in a few hours and the next day she cycled as if she had new legs.

He sleeps in a small room next to a small kitchen on the property, and will scream for the houseboy/porter/gardener/cook/reception/cashier person of Loka House, if you want some thing or when you check in or out. Sometimes, you’ll have to keep a look out around a blind corner of the guest house, or behind a tree, lest you bump into him, and get the fright of your life. He likes to potter around the koi pond close to the open rice fields, where I took some of the photos. No one knows his age, close to ninety maybe. He has survived his daughter in law. I do hope to see him again on our March 2011 trip.

2008

Made Bawa, retired school teacher, funnyman and owner, Guru Ratna Home Stay, Munduk village, north Bali 2003

 

2008

spot the tourist 2000

 

Nyoman, manager since 1992, Ibu Rai Restaurant, Ubud 2008

Anik, head chef. co-owner, Sails Restaurant, Lipah Bay, Bali 2008

'George' a stranger on the 'alang alang' trail, Ubud, Bali 2006

Nyoman Merta Jaya and family, owner 3 Brothers Car rentals, Ubud 2006

"Need transport ?" 2006

Nur Rini, owner, Rini's Hotel, Lovina Beach, Bali 2008

Nyoman, "I feel strong this morning" houseboy, Warji House, Ubud, Bali 2008

Just a FAT monkey 2006

Day 10: Lovina to Munduk in the mountains

Tuesday May 16, 2006, 65 km (40 miles) – Total so far: 453 km (281 miles)

Some history 101 on Singaraja which means Lion King. The town riches were based on ill gotten gains from a 17th century feudal king who was feared for his export of Balinese slaves to the outer islands in exchange for gold and opium. This was also the part of Bali where the Dutch first set foot in 1849, their influence much more lasting in north Bali than the south. Today there’s a rich cultural mix of business savvy Chinese Balinese and the Muslim community, descendants of Moroccan and Arab traders. There’s also a healthy rivalry here as to who has the biggest satellite dish crowned three storey marbled mansion or long wheel based BMW, as we cycled by some very posh and guarded houses out of town.

We negotiated a ride up 1500 meters and 30 kms into Bali’s central highlands. Mr Speedy’s red 1.3 liter Harley or Suzuki is a common runaround in the town of Singaraja, usually ferrying schoolkids or housewives to the market, sometimes packing up to 20 people inside. We spotted him at a gas station and made the opening offer for him to drive us to a pass at Wanagiri. He agreed on Rps 70,000 or $8 and off we went. Where’s Wanagiri? he asked.

nice CV

2 of 3 highland lakes we pass by on our ride down to the sea. Some potential campsites here with no shortage of water

Cycling above the three crater lakes of Bratan, Buyan and Tamblingan in the central highlands of Bali is always a delight. A smooth and seldom used road runs for an undulating 10 kms with glimpses of the lakes before descending steeply into the last of Bali’s remaining primary jungle.There’s one perfect straight where a friend hit 70 kmph plus speeds, before skidding and blowing his rear tyre and rim in our younger and more reckless days. Another 15 kms up the road is the Dutch era village of Munduk surrounded by clove and coffee estates, which has some hidden gems like the Puri Lumbung Cottages and a few village homestays which we’ve come to know and love. See www.purilumbung.com

A steep singletrack leads down to this waterfall which I was prepared to swim in having brought my bathing gear. It was more like a 10 minute dip before hypothermia set in. The water was freezing! We did not have to back track uphill as I knew of a flat and more direct trail next to some very steep ravines, before it emerged on the main road.

The village of Munduk hugs a mountain ridge in north Bali, surrounded by clove and coffee plantations.

Made Bawa, retired school teacher, funnyman and owner, Guru Ratna Guesthouse, Munduk Village, north Bali 2003

We drop in on some old friends who run an old 5 room Dutch era guesthouse in the mountain village of Munduk

Family matters alot in Bali. Made Bawa used to be a schoolteacher, as did his father but it was also more lucrative leading walks around the surrounding hills and villages. Besides he likes to give a helping hand to any foreign women who has difficulty crossing a stream or muddy rice field, and still get paid for being gentlemanly. As he’s getting on in years, most of his time is spent tending to a small plot of clove trees or puffing on a clove cigarette or two from his private pavilion overlooking a stunning valley of rice terraces and a side road ‘where the ladies go to bathe’ Coleen found out that a younger brother he always doted on had passed away from a heart attack just weeks ago, and Made was still grieving, yet he apologised for his mood saying it was ‘mendung’ Indonesian for ‘cloudy’ His son and daughter in law will eventually take over the running of Guru Ratna, their spotless guesthouse in Munduk which today was full with travellers from Australia’s Intrepid Travels. We said our goodbyes after 2 hours.

Munduk rice terraces