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The Write Side of 59

Tag Archives: Bali

Indonesia, Part 5: Pemuteran, Bali

28 Monday Oct 2013

Posted by WS50 in Travel

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Bali, Indonesia, Julie Seyler, The Write Side of 50, Travel

Bali rice terraces.

Bali rice terraces.

BY JULIE SEYLER

The island of Bali is all that it is cracked up to be: rolling, verdant, rice terraces, tropical flowers in every hue, massages and facials galore, temples everywhere, and fabulous shopping. I have never read Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Eat Pray Love, so had no preconceptions of the island except an overall sense that it is supposed to epitomize beauty. It does. But the photos do not do it justice.

Birds of paradise.

Birds of paradise.

The beauty comes from the entire vista; the panoramic scope of a landscape treated well by its inhabitants. There is still hands-on tending to the rice in much of Bali, although it is slowly being leeched dry by the tourist trade. (Mea culpa.)rice by hand

Our first introduction to this island of lushness was on the drive from the airport in Denpasar to Northern Bali for a couple of days of snorkeling. We stopped along the way to buy fruit we had never eaten before, like mangosteens and jackfruit,

Jackfruit

Jackfruit.

and to see a temple called Pura Ulun Danu Bratan. It is not so old (1926), but because it honors the goddess of lakes and rivers, who helps make the rice grow, it is very important.Ulan

It is built on an island in the lake, and is quite festive in spirit. The goddesses and gods, like Ganesha, the elephant god, were draped in various colored cloths, and protected from the sun by fringed parasols. There were priests dressed in white preparing for a ceremony and families out for an afternoon stroll and of course the group tourist trade in droves. The grounds were lush with orchids and trumpet flowers and hibiscus. As we wandered around we came upon a sort of private-mini avian zoo of various exotics, like giant bats and mega-toucans. bats and strorks

If you wanted to, you could have your picture taken with one of them. (I have a funny feeling this whole business might not be permitted under some law of the U.S., but cock-fighting, albeit illegal, is an open sport in Bali.) In any event, the collection was interesting, and the animals looked awfully well taken care of. Ultimately I could not resist having my picture taken with a wise old owl. (Forget the bat.)  me and owl

So after indulging my need to play consummate, hokey tourist, we moved on to a waterfall hike, and about 4:30 arrived at our destination – Pemuteran, a small village on the cusp of a development boom. According to our guide, Pemuteran is what Kuta in south Bali was like 20 years ago. There was our hotel, and a few more dotted along the beach, but no shops and few restaurants. We had come to snorkel, and there really was nothing else for us to do but relax. What I did not know was that we were going to be doing nothing in a place with so many delectable options of where and how to relax. Therefore, I never really relaxed.

plunge pool

There was the private plunge pool to constantly dip into, especially at night once the stars emerged. Then there were the choices of where to sit or lie: the veranda located directly in front of the pool, which was furnished with inviting armchairs, perfect from which to sip a Bintang beer, or the double-wide chaise, with soft fluffy pillows perfect to take a nap on. But the piece de resistance was the upstairs sitting room, reached by an outdoor staircase, which hovered above the pool. It was equipped with chairs, a desk and a mosquito-netted daybed in case we wanted to sleep outside.day bed

The whole place was a little slice of paradise. But before I could take a nap or read a book, I had to fit in a facial, a massage and a reflexology treatment (all at price points one-tenth of what one pays in New York City), plus the snorkeling excursions. And we only had two days. There was way too much to do, but we managed to do it all.

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Happy Birthday (to Me!) from Indonesia

01 Tuesday Oct 2013

Posted by WS50 in Travel

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Bali, Birthday, Java, Julie Seyler, The Write Side of 50, Travel, Yogyakarta

Celebration. October, 2012

No matter where I am, I clink on my birthday (October 2012 in New York).

BY JULIE SEYLER

I turned 58 today in Yogyakarta, Java. According to my trip itinerary we shall be flying at 7:55 a.m. back to Bali, where we travel to Pemuteran in the far north of the island for a couple of days of snorkeling. We may see a waterfall, and a temple or two, along the way, and hopefully will stop at a market to go souvenir shopping – one of my favorite things to do. I am a complete tourist, and adore shopping for tchotchkes that I would not see back at home. (Although these days we live in such a global world, everything seems to be available online.)

So my birthday is a travel day, and that’s fine. I will be doing something that I don’t usually do on my birthday – like driving in Indonesia. And will definitely do something I always do – celebrate.

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Farewell, Julie! Keep Your Nose Down

26 Thursday Sep 2013

Posted by Lois DeSocio in Travel

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Bali, Julie Seyler, scents, The Write Side of 50, Travel

P1180339

Yesterday, Julie and Steve took to the skies towards Bali for a few weeks vacation time. True to fashion, Julie’s head did not pause in its pondering – specifically, this time, about what can potentially go up her nose.

I know you’ll all join me in wishing her and Steve safe travels, fun, and adventure. I’ll reach into the vault for some Julie-posts while she’s away.

Below is her last live entry before hitting, no doubt, a potentially pungent JFK airport:
~Lois

Steve and I are en route to Bali, somewhere between Hong Kong and Jakarta. Luckily, we dodged Typhoon Usagi and our flight was not canceled. So while I am on my way of the country, it seems like a good time to discuss a pet peeve, a personal peccadillo, a piddling pimple of an insignificant annoyance.

I have a preternatural distaste for things that have been aromatized to make them theoretically “smell” better. Floor polish that conjures up a piney forest, detergents that are supposed to remind me of the ocean, and a city bus infused with a rose-scented room deodorizer wraps my nose in indignity. (And of course if the bus window is hermetically sealed so that I can’t even open it, I become outraged at the thought that I am a prisoner to a rose bomb!)

The greatest affront of all is being at a restaurant seated next to someone who has had the audacity to douse themselves in scent. I have waltzed in, anticipating a meal infused with roasted garlic and fresh herbs, and instead Brut is wafting up my nostrils. It is always a tad embarrassing for my dinner companion when I discreetly whisper to the waiter that we must change tables because I have a problem with the way the person sitting next to me smells.

I hope the plane I’m flying in isn’t a perfumed vehicle filled with perfumed people. It’s a pretty long flight.

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