| |
| Route Map |
Wayne was staying at the Puri Bagus Hotel in Candi Dasa, owned by the same person who owns the Puri Bagus in Lovina where I stayed my first night in Bali. I stayed there one night, then moved next door to a less upscale place more in my price range.
The north east coast used to be a wonderful fishing area, but the seas have been drastically overfished. For a number of years fishermen used dynamite to kill everything and then scoop up what they could sell, and much of the reef is destroyed as a result. They also mined it for sand, and today huge trawlers have destroyed much of the coral habitat. As a result, few fish are caught any more, although the fishermen still go out. The local fishing boats are dugout canoes stabilized by two outriggers made of bamboo, with a small outboard on the stern and a sailing rig. I was there on the night of a full moon, which was supposed to be particularly good fishing, and I had an opportunity to go out with some local fishermen. So I got up at some ungodly hour, and we headed out.
There were two guys on the boat, plus me, plus about 500 meters of gill net about 2 meters high in two sections, 250 meters each. When we got to the right spot, we put out a float attached to the end of the net, and then started feeding out the net. At the mid-point we attached another float and the next section of net, and fed it out. Then a final float on the end, and we let it go. Then we let out some heavy hand line with a large flashy colorful lure on the end, and we trolled around in the dawn.
After the requisite amount of waiting, during which time we had caught nothing on the hand line, we started pulling in the net. It was totally empty. I felt really sorry for these guys; they hadn't caught anything for a week. My business as a tourist was all they had.
 |
 |
 |
| Typical fishing boat | Putting out the net | Putting out hand line |
 |
 |
 |
| Pulling in net | Pulling in net | Pulling in net |
After we had the nets in, we put up the sail and headed back. It was fun sailing on a traditional island boat. She moved pretty well, and pointed reasonably considering the rig. What a wonderful way to spend the morning, even if we didn't catch any fish!
 |
 |
 |
| Gnung Agung | Sailing home |
When we got near shore, the guys hopped out (they wouldn't let me help) and pushed / lifted / rocked the boat to get it over the low reef in front of the beach, as the tide had gone out. Then we picked up the boat with help and moved her up the beach to her normal resting place.
 |
 |
 |
| Pushing over reef | Pushing over reef | Coming ashore |
I usually had dinner with Wayne at his hotel, as mine didn't serve dinner and he had dinner included. It was pretty good, although sometimes a bit spicey for me.
Before they knew better, the Balinese "mined" the coral reefs in front of the hotels in this area for sand. Too late, they learned that the reefs were protecting everything from erosion, so now they have built an artificial reef to replace it, since it takes thousands of years for a coral reef to grow to any size. A sad state of affairs.
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Wayne and Gary at Dinner | Gazebo at my hotel | Artificial Reef | Artificial Reef and view of port |
 |
 |
 |
| Beach | Statue of Cow | Statue of Woman with basket of produce |
I took a day and explored around the eastern tip of the island, circling yet another volcano, or pair of volcanoes. Gnung Lempuyang and Gnung Seraya, the peaks to the east of Candi Dasa, are the dominant features of the east end of Bali. I went up to Pura Lempuyang, about half way up G. Lempuyang. At ~2500', it has an outstanding view to G. Agung, on which it is oriented. Unfortunately, there were clouds hanging over the top. No one was there except me and the dogs. I decided it was time to pray, to whatever Gods there are, Hindu or otherwise. I realized I didn't have any traditional offering, but decided if whatever Gods there are are worthy of being Gods, they don't care much about physical offerings. Or even more likely, they would abhor them, since it seems likely the practice leads one to always look for a better offering, upping the ante until, like the Mayans and others, we end up at ritual human sacrifice. I pondered this a bit wondering whether Hinduism had ever approached that, and if not, why not. Then returned to more pressing matters, and decided that the ultimate offering we can make is our purest, uncompromised, honest thoughts, for in them rests the hopes and possibilities that we can bestow on the cosmos, as well as our worst deeds; and by being brutally honest perhaps we will change for the better, and that would truly make the Gods happy. So I sat down, crossed my legs in a poor imitation of all those yogis you see pictures of, and spent a few minutes lost in thought and prayers. At which point I realized I still had my shoes on. After my initial panic and embarrassment, I decided any Gods worthy of being Gods wouldn't much care about that either, and came away with a clean mind. Perhaps the Gods' self-appointed, self-righteous human representatives would object, but as with all religions, the self-appointed grand bugas don't matter. The dogs roam the temples freely, pooping where they please, and haven't been treated unkindly. In the end, the discussion is between me -- my soul, the essence of me -- and the Gods, if they even exist.
On my way up to Pura Lempuyang I came across a man walking down the road with his sickle, the back of his tee shirt shouting the word "Contractor". Somewhere further on, a man was saving a few rupiah by using one to do his own dental work.
 |
 |
 |
| Preparing for Ceremony | G. Lempuyang, G. Seraya | Contractor... |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Pura Lempuyang entrance | Pura Lempuyang | Dragons! | with long tails | Great view, sometimes |
 |
 |
| Pura Lempuyang | Looking towards G. Agung |
I went up on the inland side, between Gnung Lempuyang and the big volcano, Gnung Agung. I came back the outside, along the Lombok straits, between Bali and the neighboring island to the east, Lombok. This coast has a number of small resorts that cater to divers, snorkelers, and beach bums. They were all almost empty. The beaches were lined with boats. There must have been several thousand of them, waiting to take you out for a ride. All out of work. The fishing was terrible, and the tourist business was terrible, not a good situation. I passed a man and his family making up a new fishing net, stretched out along the edge of the road.
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Amed resort area | Boats on beach | Amed coast | Butterfly |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Amed coast | Boats on beach | Amed coast | More empty boats |
 |
 |
| Goat with kids |
I passed a bunch of school kids, put out my hand and gave them all a high five and a slap as I went slowly by, then stopped just to be friendly. They all wanted a pen or money, which I didn't have. Later, when buying gas, I picked up some candy. When I got caught in the rain and pulled up under a tree, some kids waved from a house across the street so I waved back, left the bike and moved over under their porch to get out of the rain. They were delighted when I handed out candy. I wish I had something healthier to give them.
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Highway bridge | Main highway bridge! | Bamboo Freight Pickup | Highway creek ford |
As I neared town again, it really opened up, and I ran for cover.
 |
 |
| Water Palace | Hiding from rain |
As I came to the hotel, there was a big banner stretched across the road, the equivalent of a billboard, I guess, although not as obnoxious since it blended with a lot of other flags and signs. It said "Super Duper Offer, up to 40%" and was for the hotel where Wayne was staying. Turns out he had told them to advertise, and it actually brought in a customer. I was surprised, considering there were hardly any people visiting to draw from.
 |
 |
| Puri Bagus advertising banner | Gary and Wayne, post office run |
I took a day and went up to the village of Tenganan, the only place in Bali where they make weavings using the double ikat method. It is a fairly traditional village, not as much changed and influenced by western culture as most other villages.
In the double ikat weaving, a single thread is used for the weft as well as the warp. The pattern is made by figuring out ahead of time precisely where on the thread each color is needed, and then dyeing the thread the required colors in the required places. For single ikat, this is done with only the warp or the weft; for double ikat, it is done for both the warp and the weft, and they have to meet up perfectly for the weaving to look right. Obviously, it is very time consuming.
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Tenganan | Double ikat loom | Gnarly tree | Tenganan |
When riding on these roads, you cannot relax for a minute. It doesn't matter if it's straightaway or blind corners. Your lane may be clear, but the oncoming traffic assumes it's theirs, so you can't expect them to get out of your way. Around a corner you may find potholes, chickens, a dog lying down, banana leaves, the ramainder of yesterday's holy offerings, kids, or a motorbike passing a car passing a truck passing a bicycle. Top speed for me is 60 km/hr on a straightaway, 40-50 most of the time, and that works well.
One night Wayne and I were invited to a hotel staff party for his hotel; it was their sixteenth anniversary. There were a number of traditional dancers, and the dance involved them picking people from the audience to participate. I believe the origins of the dance have something to do with historical events where the Balinese had to protect themselves from invading people from another island, but we didn't know that, and just tried to do something not too embarassing.
 |
 |
| High school band | Traditional band |
 |
 |
 |
| Dancer |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Dancer with Wayne |
 |
 |
 |
| Dancer with Gary |
 |
 |
 |
| Fishing from shore | Clown fish | Cleaner Shrimp |
I needed to return the motorcycle to Agung Ngurah in Lovina. So I took a day and rode around the east coast, from the moist southern area to the drier northern coast. This route circled the tallest point on Bali, the volcano Agung, number one, the big one. I had hoped to climb it initially, but time and the weather did not make that seem like a good idea.
I delivered the bike, and checked in at my old hotel. I went down to the beach and stood at the wall, looking at the water. Within 30 seconds a woman was there offering me a massage for $3. Then another selling necklaces, another for laundry services, then a guy selling shells. They offered to take me snorkling. Anything for a buck -- they're pretty hungry. I feel like I should get something from all of them, but I don't want the stuff, don't want a massage just for me. It makes me feel stingy, but I don't know how to deal with so many in need.
The next morning I watched people hand planting rice in the field alongside the hotel. It was mind boggling watching the speed with which it happened.
 |
 |
| Agung | Eroded Streambed, N Side Agung |
 |
|
| Planting Rice near Lovina |
Then I headed to Ubud... The guy I rented the motor bike from, Agung, took me to the bus station; I paid him $5 for the 15km ride. I caught a bus to Gianjar, Tegallingah, for $2.50; The bus ride was long and uncomfortable; motorbike would have been more fun, more comfortable, more interesting, and a better route. I got off the bus, walked 50 feet, asked a bemo guy if he went to Ubud; he said $1. He asked where in Ubud and I said Pita Maha, figuring there was only one and I didn't want to sound snooty by saying the obvious part, "Royal." He said, "Oh, that's a ways from the bus stop... 3-4, 5km. I was the only one on the bus so far, so he says he can take me right there for $6. I say no, I'll walk. My experience is everyone says it's far and it never is. He tries $5, as expected, I say no, I'll walk. He asks how much it's worth, I say $3; we settle on $4. I probably could have gotten it for $3 by starting at $2, but I don't want to take advantage of people. He takes me to the Pita Maha, drops me.
The well dressed and polite reception crew size me up, a little surprised by my attire and backpack. I ask for Wayne, they show no recognition, an unheard of situation for a hotel and my friend; they check the guest list, nobody knows anything about him. I ask for "Alit," as instructed by Wayne... again no one recognizes the name. I look at my note again, ask to be sure... this is the "Royal Pita Maha?" Their eyes widen a bit more, look me over, again, and tell me, no, this is only the Pita Maha, the Royal is up the road another km. I go back out to the gate, where a delivery man in a "van-truck" -- van body with everything behind the front seat shaved off so the rest is a pickup like box -- is leaving with his young son in the front seat. I stick my thumb out and ask if he can take me to the Royal Pita Maha, he says yes, I hop in the back, he says no, points to the cab, so I dump my pack in the back and hop in. He delivers me; I pay him $1 -- so now I'm up to $12.50, and if I still had the motorbike I'd only be out $3.50 for the whole day. But I'm in Ubud.