With only one week left in our island home, what I am looking forward about returning to Oz? After the reunion with family and friends, I can’t wait to be able to shop for fresh produce any day of the week. Apples, berries and the promise of summer stone fruit. Avocado and olives. Radio National. Cool spring mornings. Walks on the hard sand of Geographe Bay. All day electricity. Drinking water straight from the tap. Soy lattes. Weekend papers. Juicy lemons from our tree. Warbling magpies.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
control of the high seas
Dawn breaks over the lagoon as we load Mick’s tri-maran with snacks, sunscreen, fuel tanks and an array of equipment for water activities. Surfboards : check. Stand-up-paddle board : check. Kiteboard : check. Mask and snorkle : check. A day out communing with nature is imminent.
The water is glassy and clear as we motor around the reef and into the open ocean. A brief interlude for a morning surf, then Mick unfurls the “screecher” and we sail to protected waters for a cuppa and cranberry muffins. The water is like Venetian glass, reflecting a cloudless sky over a white sand bottom. I do my best to channel Jacky Onassis or Princess Mary, lazing away a Thursday on the bow.
We push 6 knots across the channel to the leeward side of “Bat Island” for lunch. Sail, swim, eat, repeat. I’m getting the hang of this sailing gig. The coral garden beneath us is undamaged, a rare display in an area prone to dynamite fishing and a total disregard for preservation. Above us looms a grey, gaping cliff face; ancient reef exposed to the elements in another eon. The westerly on-shore wind has picked up and we punch into the swell under full sail. It is my first real sailing experience since lolling about in tiny bathtubs for school boating. If I stay on deck I can endure fairly rough conditions, but five minutes in the galley and I’m toast.
The red sphere hits the horizon as we enter the lagoon and glide home. The perfect clichéd end to a magic day.
The water is glassy and clear as we motor around the reef and into the open ocean. A brief interlude for a morning surf, then Mick unfurls the “screecher” and we sail to protected waters for a cuppa and cranberry muffins. The water is like Venetian glass, reflecting a cloudless sky over a white sand bottom. I do my best to channel Jacky Onassis or Princess Mary, lazing away a Thursday on the bow.
We push 6 knots across the channel to the leeward side of “Bat Island” for lunch. Sail, swim, eat, repeat. I’m getting the hang of this sailing gig. The coral garden beneath us is undamaged, a rare display in an area prone to dynamite fishing and a total disregard for preservation. Above us looms a grey, gaping cliff face; ancient reef exposed to the elements in another eon. The westerly on-shore wind has picked up and we punch into the swell under full sail. It is my first real sailing experience since lolling about in tiny bathtubs for school boating. If I stay on deck I can endure fairly rough conditions, but five minutes in the galley and I’m toast.
The red sphere hits the horizon as we enter the lagoon and glide home. The perfect clichéd end to a magic day.
Friday, October 16, 2009
road closed for julia
Labels:
architecture,
Bali
On the way north of Ubud, we ignore the “road closed” signs and continue on our merry way forward. I think we are in the middle of an elaborate celebration, until I see the costume truck, containers of camera gear and bands of security guards. We have ridden our scooters straight into the set of “Eat, Pray, Love”, and are quickly ushered on our way. What, no quality time with Julia?
Our destination is Gunung Kawi Sepatu, a lesser-known attraction than nearby Gunung Kawi, and a tranquil, well preserved gem. The tourist information boasts “you will be healed very much by this temple done remaining quiet very much in a relaxed manner.” 
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
happy christmas Bali style
Today is the celebration of Galungan, a holy day that occurs every 210 days to celebrate the victory of dharma (goodness) over adharma (evil). Balinese reflect on the harmony between the inner self and the outer world and join with their family and community to eat, pray and love. On the right side of every house is erected a penjor, a long bamboo pole decorated according to guidelines set by a high caste hindu priest. Decorations must include agricultural products, such as rice and tubers, to symbolise man’s ownership of the bounty and his willingness to use it for right purpose. The arched habit of the pole echoes the holy Mount Agung, and is a metaphor for human beings to live with sincerity and respect for the Gods. It sure beats tinsel bought at Woolies and thrown over a plastic tree in haste.
At the base of the penjor is an ornately decorated spirit house, where offerings are made to the Gods. In the home of a newlywed couple, special woven banners hang from the spirit house and village members visit with gifts of rice, fruits and cakes. These presents are a gesture of support for the new couple, offered with blessings for a happy life together. A penjor remains in place for 35 days, throughout the extended celebrations of Galungan and Kuningan, after which it is burnt and the ashes buried inside the family compound in a final endeavour to produce fertility and prosperity.
As with Christmas, Galungan is an exciting time for children. They are on school holidays and receive new clothes and money as gifts from their parents. The day following Galungan is a family recreation day, which may be a nature destination, supermarket or department store. The Balinese equivalent of our frenzied Boxing Day sales.
At the base of the penjor is an ornately decorated spirit house, where offerings are made to the Gods. In the home of a newlywed couple, special woven banners hang from the spirit house and village members visit with gifts of rice, fruits and cakes. These presents are a gesture of support for the new couple, offered with blessings for a happy life together. A penjor remains in place for 35 days, throughout the extended celebrations of Galungan and Kuningan, after which it is burnt and the ashes buried inside the family compound in a final endeavour to produce fertility and prosperity.
As with Christmas, Galungan is an exciting time for children. They are on school holidays and receive new clothes and money as gifts from their parents. The day following Galungan is a family recreation day, which may be a nature destination, supermarket or department store. The Balinese equivalent of our frenzied Boxing Day sales. 
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
spa cuisine at the maya
I have a quirky addiction to travel research, in particular flight timetables, accommodation rates and menus, and my idea of a good time is calling into boutique resorts to check out their facilities. In Bali this practice is rewarded with golf buggy rides, travelator trips and previews into some of the best spas and villas your rupiah/dollar/yen can buy. A peek into the other world - the world of space beds and 24 hour butlers.
It was on a recent “reccie”, that I decided on the Maya Resort and Spa's River Cafe for Zoe’s birthday lunch. None of the other guests would have arrived via scooter, but once through security and over the foyer pond threshold, we were as suave as any high flyer. Down the promenade, framed by coconut palms and exclusive villas, to the elevator, and a pain free trip to the valley below. One wouldn’t want to break a sweat on the stairs. The River Cafe is a tribute to fresh “spa cuisine”, served overlooking the infinity pool, abundant garden and rushing river.
We are momentarily put off our food by the arrival of a middle-aged Euro sporting nothing but a short canary yellow t-shirt and red cock-jocks. Does paying a certain amount of money give sanction to wearing no pants out to lunch?
With a delightful lunch over and the Mastercard signed off, we make ourselves acquainted with the swimming pool, until the schedule asserts that we towel off and move on to Zoe’s massage and floral bath appointment. The life of a princess is never dull.
It was on a recent “reccie”, that I decided on the Maya Resort and Spa's River Cafe for Zoe’s birthday lunch. None of the other guests would have arrived via scooter, but once through security and over the foyer pond threshold, we were as suave as any high flyer. Down the promenade, framed by coconut palms and exclusive villas, to the elevator, and a pain free trip to the valley below. One wouldn’t want to break a sweat on the stairs. The River Cafe is a tribute to fresh “spa cuisine”, served overlooking the infinity pool, abundant garden and rushing river.
We are momentarily put off our food by the arrival of a middle-aged Euro sporting nothing but a short canary yellow t-shirt and red cock-jocks. Does paying a certain amount of money give sanction to wearing no pants out to lunch?
With a delightful lunch over and the Mastercard signed off, we make ourselves acquainted with the swimming pool, until the schedule asserts that we towel off and move on to Zoe’s massage and floral bath appointment. The life of a princess is never dull.
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