Bali and a bit of Java

I spent six nights in Bali, three at the lovely Conrad Bali resort on one of the south coast beaches and three at the equally lovely Hotel Tjampuhan near Ubud in the hills towards the island's center.

While I'd not stayed at the Conrad before, Bali seemed pleasantly familiar from previous trips. I took a peak at the beaches and then went to the spa for a nice massage and a couple of more dubious treatments (though I am assured my skin in now quite refreshed). I think I'm on safe ground saying that the beach resorts of south Bali are fully attuned with any number of other good beach resorts around the world. So that is what I got, a relaxing beach stay.

Ubud is more the thing, with an attractive combination of walks through forest and farms, temples and markets. I did some of each.



Ubud likes to describe itself as a place defined by its culture. It is full up of nightly performances based on old royal entertainment that has been preserved through the temples. I can't say how closely the tourist performances tie to these anticedants, but they are very nice to see. My first night in Ubud I saw classical dance with gamelan music. It had all it needed to have, the beautiful girl who might be trouble, the hero who might be a bit dim and the evil villan who might be the most interesting of the crowd.


However, the good guys had celestial help, and the bad guys took it on the chin as they should.

The next night was somewhat the same, though this time the gamelan orchestra was replaced with a kecak chorus. The chorus, all male, forms a circle several deep around a large oil lamp. The chorus chants as the background, or perhaps the dramatic force, of the dance that takes place within the chorus circle and around the flaming lamp. More good guy, bad guy and gods help out.

This performance also included two trance exhibitions. The audience is asked to believe that various participants go into a trance and then dance beautifully or perform acts of courage or endurance only to be revived by a priest with sacred water at the end. Come what may, it is interesting and sort of neat to watch a performer kick and swirl his way across hot coals.

Another Ubud site is the sacred monkey forest. It is lush with growth and lively with the sound of music this time of year. It is full of sculpture and temples and monkeys. I assume the forest is sacred in spite of and not because of the monkeys. I reject that it is the monkeys themselves that are sacred. They are, however, photogenic. This fellow planted himself in front of me while I was getting ready to take a picture of another critter at a bit greater (safer) distance. Other monkeys seem bolder yet.

Now doesn't that just look like fun! Or not.

And I ate a lot. So this was all very nice (except the for monkey thing, and maybe the spa thing), and it was just what I expected and I was kind of glad to be on the move again. I took a bus from Bali to a town in east Java named Probolinggo and then minivan up the side of Bromo, a volcano sat in a national park. A nicely long and uncomfortable trip to get all that Bali pleasantness out of my system. And there was a boat ride too.

The hotel at Bromo was perhaps too much of a good bad thing. I know I've stayed in tougher hotels but it has been a while. And I have grown to like a degree of comfort, like sheets on the bed. And hot water. Though in fairness, there was one sheet on the bed.

The Bromo thing, ordained by those who came before, is to jump in a rattling jeep at 3:30 AM, head across the crater floor and up the other side across difficult terrane and on broken roads to catch the first rays of a glorious sunrise. And so I did. And so did 200 others in about 50 other jeeps. Having seen the sun rise, we then jump back in our jeeps (which jeep was that I was in?) and head back to the crater floor to walk up the mini cone in the big cone (I apologize to anyone reading this that knows anything technical about volcanoes). This involves ascending what was stated in my guidebook to be 248 steps (but I counted 250 and really resented the extra two), and then a bit of vertigo inducing prancing around the lip of the volcano. Someone sold me some flowers to throw into the volcano. This I dutifully did. Aside from the heart attack risk associated with climbing those 250 (not 248) steps, the most dangerous part of the day might have been fending off the pony hustlers on the path to the steps. If that sounds like I am questioning the morals of the ponies, let me say I have no reason to think ill of them.

Then, bringing me to yesterday afternoon, I took a short but not so comfortable bus ride to Surabaya, city of heros and Indonesia's second most populous town. Having had my little adventure, I checked myself into the wonderful Hotel Majapahit and its colonial splendor. How much extra to upgrade to a suite?

The bus ride is worth a couple of lines. I got on an air conditioned bus at the Probolinggo bus station. Let's be nice to the tourist. Here we will put your luggage next to the driver. Away we go ... about a mile where everyone is instructed to get out of the bus and board its un-airconditioned poor cousin. I kind of sat on my luggage for the next three hours.

The ride itself wasn't horrible. Lots of merchants jumping on and off selling food and drink and weird whatnots. There were also the singers (the largest group was five including drums and two guitars). Jump on, sing a couple of songs, pass the hat and off they go.

When I pried myself away from my glorious hotel room, I walked around Surabaya a bit. It has nice markets and mosques and temples, and the remains of a Dutch colonial city.
I lucked onto some kind of event at the Governor's mansion. The good and great of Surabaya sat under a deep portico while children danced before them. Love the shades.

Then the big number! With a marching band! And beautiful girls!

And yes, those are cow boy boots. I truly have no idea.

Tomorrow I am off on an early train to Jogyakarta in central Java and another shot of culture. Tonight, I think I'll look for another marching band.