Indonesia

Indonesia – our final destination! It is hard to believe that it has been over 7 months and we are nearing the end. After 26 countries, you would think that passport controls and customs would be a walk in the park, but as we stood late at night in the immigration queue at the Bali Airport, all the usual jitters and frustrations emerged as we just wanted to get through the queue and safely to our accommodation. As usual, the kids were amazing, waiting patiently in the line, dragging their bags along wherever we told them to until we were met by the smiling driver holding a placard with my name on it. It was less than 1km to the homestay guesthouse we had booked for the night, but we were glad for the assurance and the convenience. 

Waking up to the sound of the muezzin calling in the morning was something we hadn’t experienced since Azerbaijan, and was somehow familiar and reassuring. This was followed by a continuous bell ringing, which was unfamiliar and somewhat annoying. It was coming from one of the many unusual ornate  ‘temples’ built in the courtyard of our homestay, which we learned later was a feature of Balinese Hinduism – more about this later. Our overnight stay near the airport was just so we could avoid a late-night transfer to Ubud in the centre of Bali, but it was really nice to have breakfast laid on and a refreshing swim before setting off.

Ubud is said to be the cultural and spiritual heart of Bali. It was made famous, and very popular for tourists, by the book and subsequent movie, ‘Eat, Pray, Love’. It must have been very different back then to what it has now become, as it is now teeming with tourists and the main streets are jam packed with tourist shops and restaurants. Nevertheless it does still retain its charm and spiritual presence and was an interesting first experience of Bali.

We had booked a homestay near the centre of town, but it was located off a quiet back alley. We learned that families in Bali live in multi-household compounds, with a standard layout: temple in the north-east corner, patriarch’s house in the north, family ceremonial building in the east, other family quarters in the west and kitchen, laundry and bathroom in the south. Our homestay was set out in this way, and the home temple was particularly large, with the patriarch performing religious ceremonies every morning. The Balinese are also big on offerings to deities and spirits, and small banana leaf baskets of flowers, rice and other goodies are placed on steps, in shops and at temples every single day. Large parts of the local markets are dedicated to this ‘ceremonial equipment’. 

Without having done much prior research, we weren’t exactly sure which religion was being practised. We knew that Indonesia was a majority-Muslim country, but many of the statues in Bali referenced the Mahabharata and Hindu deities, and yet had a look and feel not dissimilar to Thai Buddhism. We discovered that Bali is the only Hindu-dominated province in Indonesia, but Balinese Hinduism looks very different to the Indian and Nepali versions we had previously experienced. Our impression was that the local version was more restrained, less colourful, and calmer than its South Asian relatives. The ornately-carved stone homestead temples, and larger village temples on the main roads, are so ubiquitous, as are the daily offerings of fresh flowers, food and incense, that the religion and culture are constantly visible and present in the everyday lives of the Balinese. 

We were given a deeper view into the culture - for Bob’s birthday, we had bought him (and us) a Balinese cooking class in Ubud. The day started off with a visit to the local market, where we were shown all the local fruit and vegetables and various ingredients for the dishes we would be cooking. The class was then held in another family compound and began with a short but fascinating talk on Balinese culture. The cooking itself was intense, with the 14 of us students cooking 9 separate dishes. Fortunately all of the prep work was done for us and the kitchen team, made up of family and neighbours, guided us seamlessly through the preparation of yellow sauce (used in almost everything), gado-gado (mixed vegetables in a peanut sauce), mushroom and coconut soup, minced chicken satay, steamed tuna wrapped in banana leaves, tofu and tempeh in sweet soy sauce, stewed chicken and chayote curry, and black and white sticky rice pudding. At the end of it all we got to sit down and feast on the products of our labour, but didn’t come close to finishing off all the delicious dishes. 

The following day we hired a driver to drive us around the area and to take us to a few of the sights we wanted to see around Ubud. Another delightful driver greeted us, and was generous in sharing commentary and his time with us. Our first stop was the Tirta Empul Water Temple, famous for its holy spring water, spouting into large, clear stone baths. Locals and tourists alike are welcome to take a dip and receive a blessing from the water, so we took the opportunity and jumped right in. A certain protocol needs to be followed, which involves changing into special green bathing sarongs, donating an offering at the temple, having a moment of prayer or meditation, and then standing in line to dip one’s head three times under each of the many spouts that pour cool water into the bath. For me it was a strange experience, feeling somewhat uncomfortable in such a foreign environment, not knowing exactly what to do, and feeling conflicted between blatant touristic voyeurism and exploitation of a sacred ritual; and a genuine spiritual experience of blessing and renewal. It was certainly something we have never experienced before and I was proud of the kids for being game enough to follow their crazy parents into the unknown. After our bath, the kids had lots of fun feeding the hundreds (thousands?) of giant koi fish in one of the outer pools. 

The second stop was at the Tegalalang rice paddies. The whole area around Ubud is covered in rice paddies, framed picturesquely by coconut palms, but the Tegalalang area is particularly well known because the paddies are terraced up steep hills, making for particularly good photos. Enter Insta-culture. It was fascinating to see what Insta-culture has done to the place. The slope opposite the famous rice fields is now crammed with venues and restaurants offering “the most perfect” photo opportunities of tourists in front of the rice paddies, sitting in heart-shaped birds’ nests on fake grass, or swinging from a giant swing while wearing a flowing red gown. And the place was HEAVING with people wanting to get that special shot. The same shot they had seen someone else in on Instagram and the same shot that the other 200 people in the queue that day would get. Needless to say, I just don’t get it. We declined to pay the entrance fee to take part in this madness, and instead had a relaxing lunch overlooking the valley. 

The final stop for the day was the Monkey Forest in central Ubud. The forest is home to over 1000 macaque monkeys, who have had plenty of time to wise up to tourists. We had read a few scary stories of monkeys attacking people for food, so we were a bit anxious about visiting. Having experienced bad primate behaviour with the baboons at Cape Point and elsewhere in South Africa, we were very careful not to take in any food, or anything that even looked like food and followed all the protocols on not touching the monkeys or making eye contact. However, we were astonished at how stupid other people can be – teasing the monkeys, holding handbags full of food, and pushing a pram with a bag of biscuits underneath the baby – that’s just looking for trouble. Like two monkeys sitting on your baby, having a fight over the biscuits. Human stupidity aside, the monkeys were very entertaining, and we spent a good while observing the antics and family dynamics, including a hilarious bunch of teenage monkeys who kept throwing themselves off rocks and trees into a pond, daring each other to make more and more daring leaps into the water. Besides the monkeys, the forest itself was beautiful and the enormous, dense trees shade numerous intricate temples dotted around the grounds, and it’s a peaceful place to sit and rest away from the bustle of Ubud.

The capstone on our big day out was a performance of the Legong Dance at the old Ubud Palace. The performance of traditional Balinese dancing, accompanied by traditional Balinese music was both educational and memorable, if not altogether enjoyable. The instruments were largely foreign to us, consisting mostly of different kinds of metal xylophones and gongs, played with metal hammers, but also including other drums, shakers, single string violins, and a poor bamboo flute player who was completely drowned out by the others. The music was, well…deafening. The frantic banging and gonging kept to some sort of manic rhythm and was impressive in its coordination, but is not something we will be playing at home, particularly not Daniel, who spent most of the time with his fingers in his ears. The dancing was also enlightening, consisting of a series of very traditional dances, the meaning of which we would have been oblivious to if we had not had an explanatory brochure. The beguiling wide-eyed glances, jerky arm movements and mesmerising finger shaking looked incredibly difficult to perfect. The costumes were dazzling and sparkly, particularly that of the male bee (more like the queen bee) in the final movement. We wandered home a bit shaken from the experience, stopping off to enjoy amazing gelatos along the way.

The next day was our transfer from Bali to the Gili Islands, off Lombok, and we were met bright and early by yet another punctual, courteous and friendly driver (are they all like that?!). The drive out east showed us a calmer, more rural side of Bali, with a lot of subsistence farming and fishing. The ferry boarding was a fairly chaotic affair, but we were early and the ferry was late, so we had a while to compose ourselves before the 1.5 hour trip.  It may even be possible that the Grahams are finally getting their sea legs, as the ferry was really pleasant. We sat up on the top deck with the sun on our faces, overlooking the beautifully calm sea. We had to make stop offs at the other two islands, Gili Trawangan and Gili Meno before arriving at Gili Air. The pier at Gili Air is too shallow for the ferry to dock so we had to disembark onto a smaller tender boat, do a dosey-doe around the passengers coming onto the ferry, and then make the short trip up to the pier.  It was hot and sticky walking the 1.2km to the other side of the island, but what a pleasant sight awaited us at Rimba Villas - a private villa with an outside living area, a big garden and a glorious swimming pool!  

Gili Air is about 1.5km in diameter, with a coral reef extending between 10m and 100m off shore, followed by a steep drop-off into the deep, dark blue. The water is crystal clear and impossibly blue. We couldn’t wait to jump in. About 50m in, Nix, Bob and Daniel spotted a Green Turtle amongst the turtle grass, and a hundred metres later a large Hawksbill Turtle munching on some coral.  The reef was covered in tropical fish and large coral structures. It was surreal cruising along the surface with 40m visibility, and kind of eerie gazing down into the blue abyss of the drop-off. 

On our second day on the island we hired a glass-bottomed boat and a snorkelling guide for a trip around all three of the Gili Islands. We were taken to a deep reef with a swift current to check out some of the fish. We were then taken to a shallow reef off Gili Meno to see a stack of turtles and to the blue and green coral where more colourful reef fish hang out. One of the snorkelling attractions in the area is a circle of concrete statues that have been sunken to create an artificial reef. There is not much coral growth, but ironically the hordes of tourists who go there for Insta-selfies and with bread to attract the fish mean that it is buzzing with sea life. Despite the crowds, we had great fun swimming in the clouds of fish, getting the odd nip from a quizzy parrot fish. Daniel had an absolute ball, diving the 4m or so down to the concrete structures. We stopped on Gili Meno to have lunch and visit the local turtle sanctuary, where a local guy has been collecting turtle eggs, hatching them in safety and then rearing them until they can be released at 8 months old. His efforts are clearly paying off because the populations of these critically endangered turtles are clearly thriving. At lunch one of the waiters asked where we were from. When he heard ‘South Africa’, he straight away asked if we knew ‘The Kiffness’. He was obviously a big fan as he then proceeded to play a whole album of ‘The Kiffness’ while we enjoyed our delicious meal - a very dislocated but cool experience.  

Our last week of our adventure was meant to be a holiday. Many may be wondering why we need a holiday at the end of 7.5 months of ‘holiday’, but Carys is quick to point out the difference between ‘travel’ and ‘holiday’: “holidays are for relaxing and travel is for experiences”. In Bali we managed to have both, but our 6 days on Gili Air was definitely relaxing after a long time of constant novelty and movement. We spent long, lazy days either at the beach or next to the pool. The sunsets on the islands are legendary, with the sun setting over the Mount Agung volcano on Bali. There are dozens of beach bars with loungers and couches for one to enjoy a couple of Bintang beers, cocktails and cokes while the sun goes down. We also got to visit a fair number of restaurants on the island, sampling the local Gado-Gado, fish curry and chicken satays. 

One morning, the boys employed the services of a local fisherman and his son to take us out fishing. He arranged for some bottom fishing rigs, as well as a handline to trawl for barracuda. I held on to the handline with a fair amount of trepidation and I was somewhat relieved we didn’t get any bites as I’m not sure I would have been able to hang on!  The bottom fishing on the reefs only produced a few small reef fish - nothing sufficient for a dinner for four. Nevertheless it was a stunning morning out, watching the sun rise over Lombok and drifting over the perfectly calm sea. 

Another adventure was hiring bikes and exploring the island. Anne and Bob were very game, taking part in the kids’ adventure, but were satisfied to retire early after a short loop around the island.  Fortunately there are no motorised vehicles on the island, apart from electric bikes and scooters. The main forms of transport are bikes, walking and horse carts. Daniel thought it would be a good idea to ‘drift’ around one of the gravel corners and, unsurprisingly, came a cropper, with a large graze to the knee to show for it. It took a smoothie bowl for lunch to calm his nerves, while Carys and I completed our circuit of the island, complete with a short snorkel to hunt for more turtles.  

On our final evening on Gili Air we were once again enjoying the sunset when I turned to the bar to order some drinks. I happened to spot a friend of Richard Heslop’s, Cobus Kotze, running past - what a coincidence!  Cobus had shown us around his Black Soldier Fly farm in Cape Town the day before we had left on our trip, and here he was on the second last day. He stopped for a chat and explained that he and his family were here with his brother-in-law and his family, out from Dubai. After a minute or two the penny dropped and we realised that the family from Dubai were our good friends Cath Bouma and Neil Van Der Veen and their two kids, Layla and Amelie. What an incredibly small world. We were very keen to catch up and  were delighted when they joined us for a jolly meal at our favourite beachfront restaurant. We chatted late into the night until the kids started nodding off one-by one. What a fitting end to an incredible holiday.

The next morning was a sad goodbye to the island and the turnabout point for our trip. We were finally heading back home. We hired a horse cart to take the bags back to the pier where we once again navigated the throngs onto the ferry. After another easy crossing we were very glad to have a driver waiting for us on the jetty as the disembarkation was even more chaotic than the embarkation. The trip to Sanur was meant to be a straightforward drive down the coast but we hadn’t factored in the gridlocked traffic on a Tuesday afternoon. It was very slow going, and by the time we got to our guest house we were all hot, tired and hungry. A quick consultation of Google Maps showed a highly rated local food joint just around the corner.  If we had blinked we would have missed the Warung Stall Rainbow. The place was 1.5m wide by 3m long and run by a very enthusiastic man and his wife. The food was quick, cheap and exceptionally good. What a win!

The next morning after a final touch of souvenir shopping, we took a short stroll along the beachfront - the lovely swimming beach and clean promenade of Sanur is lovely, but we all agreed it was not a patch on Gili Air. I took the gap between breakfast and departure for a farewell haircut from Simon the barber. Daniel declined the offer to join me, after his barber trauma in Istanbul! A final swim, final packing of our bags and we departed for the airport and an epic 32-hour journey home - from Bali, via Singapore and Addis Ababa, to Cape Town.

Our time in Indonesia felt like a wonderful taste of a vast and varied country. With the world’s fourth largest population and 18 000 islands, there is so much to explore. We experienced Balinese culture, religion and hospitality in Denpasar, Ubud and Kuta and the gentle, welcoming paradise of the Gili Islands. The people are amazing, the food is delicious and the culture is rich. We would love to come back.

Although this post is about Indonesia, we have to mention our stop at the Singapore Airport. If you have six hours to wait between connecting flights, then this is the place you want to be. We had read about the massive indoor waterfall in the ‘Jewel’ and were very keen to see it. Even though we had seen pictures, the real thing blew us away. A cone of water, lit by coloured lights, falls from a glass roof about 20m above ground level, surrounded by an indoor jungle. The sky trains that pass in front of the cascade every few minutes and the piped music make the place feel futuristic. The water disappears into a whirlpool that continues downwards for another two floors towards the food court. We bypassed the uber-pricey Michelin-starred restaurants and settled for beef noodles at the typical Asian food hall. The airport complex is filled with interesting artwork, but our favourite by far was the ‘Kinetic Rain’ installation. Over 1200 copper droplets are suspended from wires in the ceiling, raised and lowered by motors to create the most mesmerising display in three dimensions.  We could have sat there for hours and had to drag the kids away to catch the slick sky train to terminal 4. There we managed to skip the very slow queue thanks to an online check in and then stopped off for milkshakes to keep spirits up as the kids started to flag. We reached the boarding gate around midnight and managed to keep the kids up for another hour until finally we could board the flight and crash.

The trip home was long but not hard - we all managed some sleep over the night flight, and plane movies kept us entertained as we cruised over Kenya, Zambia and Botswana towards home. Landing in Cape Town, it felt good to look over at the “Foreigners” queue and find ourselves in the home ground queue for the first time in many months. 

‘Coming home’ has happened in waves - reconnecting with family, friends, our home, the national psyche, the mountains and sky. We are still processing so much of this trip - what it has shown us, what we’ve learned and how we’ve changed. We will continue to add a few more reflections as these sift out and settle. Sitting writing this in our lovely home by the fire, we have so much to be grateful for. We are grateful for all the opportunities and experiences we’ve had on this epic trip over the past 7.5 months, but we are also grateful for all the people and things that make home home. It’s good to be home.