Indonesia, The Finale: Ubud, Bali

11 Monday Nov 2013

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

Welcome to my world. Goa Gajah.

I have no way of knowing whether this is a fact, but I think everybody who plans a trip to Bali lands in Ubud at some point. Not just to walk through the inside of the 9th century cave known as Goa Gajah, “the elephant cave,” or to get pounced on by a monkey in the Monkey Jungle,

but because it is a village that packs a wallop. Ubud has everything.

A foot massage after dinner on the street:

Daytime visits to museums and galleries that are set in lavish gardens, and festooned with welcoming marigolds where you can see a vast collection of paintings by artists, that I believe, are completely absent from the Met:

Museum Puri Lukisan.

“Punished Souls in Hell” (1932) by I Gusti Nyoman Lempad.

There was nightly, live, entertainment: dance performances under the stars, folk music in local cafes, and shadow puppet shows. We opted for two different danced versions of the tale of how Sita is abducted by Ravana from the Ramayana tale. The Legong, which is performed with the gamelan, was a bit more accessible than the Kecak, which has no music- only a group of men chanting, but the Kecak is more iconic and is performed with a fire on the stage:

There were restaurants galore, and thousands of shops. Shops that sold handcrafted soap and shops filled with Buddhas and shops devoted to paintings, sarongs, batiks, jewelry, and wind chimes:

It was glorious.

But we didn’t just shop. Steve would have blown his brains out. In fact, he almost did after one full afternoon of walking in and out of every single store on the Ubud Main Road. (And a few side roads.) But he was saved because Ubud is also a central location to take in Pura Goa Lawah aka the Bat Cave Temple because there really are thousands and thousands of bats living in the cave:

Neither the intense odiferousness of mounds of guano, nor flying, screeching bats deter the devoted from making offerings in this cave. In fact, it is a hugely important temple because it is situated close to the sea, and close to the mountains.

And we took a mighty fine, and easy, bike ride down around Mount Batur through the ever present verdant and plush rice fields:

We visited the temple at Tirta Empul, with its baths that have been devoted to purification since the year 962. Still today, Hindus from all over Bali come here to be cleansed and blessed with good health:

There was Pura Kehen, another temple dating from the 11th century, that may win the prize as the most ornate and delicately carved. Inside there were magnificent statues of Hindu gods and goddesses. It was mind-boggling just to take in the level of detailed design on every surface of the facade. Even the steps were incised with a motif of individually sculpted swirls:

And there was Yeh Pelu, a 75-foot frieze carved into the rock face of a cliff that tells, in life-size renderings, the story of a heroic hunter warrior. It is not known who did it, or why he did it, but the pundits believe it was done sometime between the 10th and 13th centuries, and the hero may be the Hindu god Krisna:

And when the day was done, and we were hot and caked with sweat, there was the en suite infinity pool:

There was so much more, and I have the 3,788 photos to prove it. I have shared a few, and have loved every minute of recounting some of the highlights of the trip. I guess it was made even sweeter because of the cancellation last year due to my hip. Thank goodness we canceled. I know now that I could never have done that trip with no cartilage. Anyway, this is the last official installment on Indonesia. No doubt I will periodically revisit, but in the meantime, I want to scream out loud THANK YOU to Diane Embree of Bali Barong Tours. She is the travel agent par excellent. She worked with us on every aspect of the itinerary, picked out all of the hotels, and was ALWAYS accesible. Anybody wanting to go to Indonesia, CALL HER. I did just last week, because I want to go back next year- Sulawesi, Sumba, Lombok and the Gili Islands beckon from across the sea! Not to mention more shopping in Ubud.

Indonesia, Part 5: Pemuteran, Bali

28 Monday Oct 2013

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

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

Indonesia, Part 4: Komodo Dragons

25 Friday Oct 2013

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Indonesia, Julie Seyler, Komodo Dragons, The Write Side of 50, Travel

Welcome to Komodo Land.

BY JULIE SEYLER

It takes four hours by boat from Labuan Bajo, on Flores Island, to see your first Komodo dragon:

Komodo on Rinca Island.

They are the largest lizards on earth. Mighty predators that will eat anything. We saw a few collector buffalo and deer skulls on our trek (the rangers’ sense of humor), but according to our guide, the last attack on a human was back in 1988, when a little boy died. All they need to do is give you a swipe with their bacteria-laden tongue and you’re a goner – slowly poisoned. Then they come around and lick you clean. But however deadly they may be, they are otherwise not particularly interesting creatures to observe. Basically, they lie there. Sometimes, they move an eyeball, or lumber an inch or two on their short stumpy legs:I guess they are hot, tired and lazy, which is better than them being active and feisty. I certainly don’t want to be nabbed by that: They live on Rinca and Komodo Islands, and the ride there and back includes snorkeling off a pink sand beach, sleeping on the boat under the stars, and eating some wonderful local food: fresh caught fish, the ubiquitous noodle dish, mee goreng, tons of bananas and the best watermelon ever. It does not involve running water or a toilet that flushes. But it is one beautiful boat ride: The sea shifts from turquoise to aquamarine to transparent cerulean. A sea that crystalline is a finite resource because we keep mucking it up. For now though, it is still pristine, broken up only by thousands of small brown islands dotted with sparse vegetation and, occasionally, a fishing village:

Can you see all the blues?

Then you arrive at Rinca Island, where you are given a choice of a short, medium or long walk to find Komodos. We chose the long haul (in 98 degree heat at 1:00 in the afternoon), and saw three dragons slurking around some holes a mama had dug to lay her eggs in, as well as indigenous megapode birds, and lots of water buffalo actually hanging around, and in, a watering hole:But no more dragons until we returned to the ranger station, where they seem to hover, thereby guaranteeing that a tourist who travels zillions of miles, will see a Komodo dragon:We reboarded the boat, and headed farther east as the sun sank, and docked near Komodo Island so we could start our second hike for the dragons at 7 the next morning. The trek was gorgeous,but we did not spy a dragon. Instead, we had our best best birdwatching session for non-birdwatchers: falcons, a golden oriole and a cockatoo: Back at the ranger station, there they were – perfect chameleons laying about, allowing us to take a photo or two: It was about 10:30, and time to start the return trip to Labuan Bajo, but there were a few more pit stops for snorkeling in that AMAZING body of water. And then it was over. We were back on dry land, missing the boat, but loving the shower. The next day we had an early morning excursion to a cave of dripping stalactites with such pointed spears you had to wear a helmet to protect yourself not just against the sharp edges, but also the fruit bats and spiders that inhabit the cave: A quick stop at the local market: And a mad dash shopping splurge for ikats at the airport,

Fabric shopping at Labuan Bajo Airport.

and we were on our flight to the island of Bali.

Indonesia, Part 3: Temples; Shopping

22 Tuesday Oct 2013

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

In the middle of a transaction to buy wooden puppets

Buying shadow puppets. All photos by Julie Seyler.

BY JULIE SEYLER

One thing you can count on when you travel are the touts that mass you as you emerge from the tourist sight-du-jour. Be it the Colosseum in Rome, the Pyramids in Egypt, or, as had recently happened to me, the temples in Central Java – the pitch and plea is identical. With near-perfect English, you are beseeched with, “How much you want to pay for that?” and “Here this is for you!” as something is shoved in your face.

I love the whole process! I am just the person these marketers of local wares are looking for, because I am a tchotchke collector. I can’t get enough of the wooden masks, puppets and other paraphanelia that are stockpiled in the outdoor stalls. I was thrilled when we made our way out of Candi, Mendut where Buddha sits with such serene majesty,

and were bombarded with offers to buy “stuff.” There was an explosion of possibilities: the wooden shadow puppets known as wayang klitik used in shadow puppet shows, the topeng masks, miniature bronze Buddhas and countless Batik sarongs. Had I not been with Lingga, our wonderful tour guide, and Steve, I could have spent hours going up and down the stalls looking at the minor variations of the exact same things, and never getting exasperated. But I was not alone. I had two pairs of eyes trained on me in utter disbelief that I could possibly derive such pleasure from paying too much for the Indonesian equivalent of a souvenir of the Statue of Liberty. In any case, “window” shopping was not an option. Prambanan, a whole other temple complex, beckoned:

Prambanan was built around the same time as Borobudur, but its structure is completely different. Instead of one large temple designed as a mandalic maze, there are separate temples, ranging as high as 157 feet, with interior chambers designed to house a statue of a Hindu god:

Durga, Shiva’s wife, in Shiva’s Temple.

The three largest temples are dedicated to the gods Shiva (“The Destroyer”), Vishnu (“The Preserver”), and Brahma (“The Creator”); the smaller temples to other deities. As in Borobudur, the stone blocks that comprise the temple are masterfully chiseled to tell a story, this time of Lord Rama, the hero of the great Indian epic The Ramayana and the natural world around him where monkeys may sit contemplatively under a tree:

We scaled and circumnavigated the six temples in Prambanan, following the protocol of walking from east to west, and even though we had begun the day at 4:30 a.m. with Borobudur, and had seen three other temples before even arriving at Prambanan, there were more to visit. I could see that Steve, who for some crazy reason does not share my passion for shopping and temples, was becoming glassy-eyed. Visions of the hotel pool and a cold beer danced in his head:

I could not be that easily dissuaded. I mean, here we were in Indonesia. When was the next time we would get to see the ruins of Sewu and Candi Kalasan? We reached a compromise and chose one: Kalasan, the oldest on the Prambanan plain:It cannot be entered, but the facade is peopled with what seemed like dozens of ornately carved Kala heads. These bug-eyed creatures are found on all of the temples, but the ones gracing the porticos here were especially exquisite: Then it really was time to end temple viewing.

The next day started with the hotel staff in Yogyakarta singing Happy Birthday because I was now 58. It ended with Beef Rendang and a Bintang beer in Denpasar, Bali:

Check out the chocolate double layer cake with the candle.

Check out the double layer cake with chocolate icing and a candle.

In between there was a rickshaw ride to visit the Sultan’s Palace,

Balustrade of outdoor pavilion of the Sultan’s Palace.

a live musical performance of the traditional Indonsian orchestra known as the gamelan, where the instruments may look familiar like xylophones, or unfamiliar, like hanging frying pans and covered cooking pots:

And an excursion to the market with a final stop at a shop that makes gamelan instruments by hand:

The next day we took off for Flores Island. It was time to begin the journey to see the Komodo dragons.

Indonesia, Part 2: Borobudur

17 Thursday Oct 2013

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

BY JULIE SEYLER

I am a temple fiend. I was converted in 1999, when I arrived in Khajuraho, India, and laid eyes on the 100-meter-tall monuments dedicated to the belief that Tantric worship leads to a higher power. The passion was solidified when I climbed up the steps of Angkor Wat in Cambodia in 2003. I was determined that one day I would visit Borobudur, the largest Buddhist temple in the world. It is located on the Indonesian island of Java, and was built between the 8th and 11th centuries AD, thereby falling on the same timeline as Angkor and Khanjuharo. And like those two sites, Borobudur is designated a World Heritage Sight.

Corner view of Borobudur looking east.

On Monday September 30, 2013 I was there in time to catch the sunrise, except that, that morning clouds dominated. It did not matter. The pure majesty of this testament to nirvana exerts its power regardless of weather. I mean, check this guy out:
The temple consists of a network of over two million stones fitted together to tell stories and teach morals. It spans 15,000 square feet, and towers up to the sky on nine different platforms, each of which gets slightly smaller as you ascend. As you walk east to west, the panels may reveal the biography of Prince Siddhartha from his mother’s dream of how he was conceived to how he learned the lessons that became the tenets of Buddhism:

From the story of Buddha, Level 3.

Under the Bodhi tree.

Or there may be a series of pictorial depictions of “modern” life in 900 AD in central Java:

Horse and carriage.

There are various theories as to who built Borobudur, and why it was built. But from the minimal knowledge I gleaned, the inherent raison d’etre for its existence sprung from an inherent spirituality. Borobudur is a three dimensional representation of the path we must follow to reach nirvana. An architectural roadmap to Buddhism.

The first level contains friezes of what happens when one is dissolute and selfish vs. honorable and charitable:

See how sad and pinched they are?

Another lower level contains scenes of desire:

There are more sinuous curves at this lower level than higher above.

But by the time you have entered Level 3, you are ready to be introduced to the prophecy of the man who was born as Prince Siddhartha and died as the Buddha:

This level, as well as Levels 2, 4, 5, and 6, are built in a square formation. Each platform contains rows of cross-legged, seated Buddhas in near identical poses. Four hundred and thirty two Buddhas decorate the four facades of these six lower levels, and depending if you are facing north, south, east, or west, the Buddha’s right hand changes position in accordance with a spiritual teaching. In the east, the right hand clasps the knee. In the south, Buddha’s palm is turned up to the sky. In the west, the Buddhas are meditating. And in the north, the palm is extended out. (Even though our guide Lingga was wonderfully informative, I had to buy the book to find out more.):

East-facing Buddhas.

South-facing Buddha.

North-facing Buddha.

West-facing Buddhas.

Then the whole layout changes. Instead of corners, the path turns circular. There are no sharp edges as one moves closer and closer to nirvana in Levels 7, 8 and 9:

Pictorial depiction of Borobudur showing 5 square levels and 3 circular.

Pictorial depiction of Borobudur showing 6 square levels and 3 circular.

In these three levels, the Buddhas are no longer exposed – they are enclosed in 72 separate lattice belled stupas:

Stupas.

So we walked round and round, and I tried to absorb as much as I could, but it would take many many visits to fully comprehend all that is Borobudur.

And then it was time to say goodbye, and eat breakfast, and move on to more temples:

The Write Side of 59

~ This is What Happens When You Begin to Age Out of Middle Age

Tag Archives: Indonesia

Indonesia, The Finale: Ubud, Bali

Indonesia, Part 5: Pemuteran, Bali

Indonesia, Part 4: Komodo Dragons

Indonesia, Part 3: Temples; Shopping

Indonesia, Part 2: Borobudur

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