Lake Batur 1985 in dry season

 Back again. I’m back at the Mercure after two and a half days at a resort on the north coast. They advertised a jungle walk trail, a waterfall, a private beach and a snorkeller’s paradise, with a drive over the mountains to get there. Er, not quite. Those activities are all 5km away from the guest house.

But you do get the speccy drive up to Kintamani and down the other side, and that was worth going in itself. Being wet season, it was very hazy and cloudy so the views of Gunung Agung weren’t great, but it was nice all the same. The shot above was in the dry season.

Gunung Batur 6 January 2011

This is as it is now, all cloudy and hazy. Nice, all the same. And boy, I think the same postcard sellers were there too. As soon as they see a tourist, they’re like flies. Can’t blame them, I guess.

Unfortunately, the drive was marred by a slight accident on the way down the mountain. A young woman on a motorbike was following us and must have braked too hard and gone into a slide. All I heard was a bang as she hit the back of our mini-bus.

She was distressed and crumpled on the ground, but luckily no bones were broken. Eeveryone stopped to help – it was good. Unfortunately one couple who stopped were Europeans. I got my camera out to record the scene – “This is what happened on the way to the north coast.” I thought nothing of it. But this European guy immediately got so angry and so hostile that he came at me with fists bunched. He didn’t think I should take photos.

I’m so weak on my legs that if he’d even pushed me, I would have gone down in the mud, so I just had to placate him. “Take it easy mate, easy, OK?” He was ready to hit me. He didn’t seem to notice he was the only one who objected, the only one uptight. No-one else cared.

The girl got up eventually and was able to ride back the way she came, so no harm was done. It was all very upsetting though and spoilt the morning. The driver was even more upset because he rents the van and was uninsured, so was beside himself about how to pay for the bent bumper and sticking rear door. He said it would cost about Rp1m to fix, (A$110 or so) so I gave him a $50 note, which seemed to help a lot.

Lake Batur

There’s nuffin’ to do at that resort, not even internet, hence the silence from me. But it was nice and I enjoyed it, despite there being only two other guests who didn’t want to interact much. Oh well.

Mosquito stud farm

Nearly forgot – on the drive back I asked the driver to detour through the main road of Ubud, since we were very close to it.

Oooboy, Ubud! Densely packed with shops and traffic. The only time I was here before was in 1983 and 1985 or so, and Ubud was still just a Balinese village then. It was a wide, dusty street with yes, some art shops and cafes, but nothing like it is now. There’s even a branch of the Commonwealth Bank!

We drove through Campuan where we had a small lunch in 1983 near the bridge over the gorge. I guess I might have recognised something of it, but not much. I’m so glad I had those early 80s experiences. Thanks, Dex.

So now I’m back in the big smoke and battling with this stupid Mercure internet again. Funny, the cafe across the street can give unlimited free internet, but the Mercure has to allow only 1 hour per day, and charge $5.50 per hour for more. They’re going to get an “unprofessional, don’t go there” review from me. The rest of the hotel is fine, apart from the outrageous prices for food and drink, but no-one who needs the internet for business or any serious purpose should go there.

I hope to meet the owners of the villa today, and I hope it might result in a deposit being paid on Monday (the Commonwealth Bank has branches here) and a partial ownership, although I have lots of questions re title and type of ownership first.

If it does happen, it’ll be good because I’ll be able to leave three items of relatively heavy, bulky gear here in the kitchen cupboards, so I don’t have to cart them back and forth from Perth (CPAP, tripod, monopod). They total about 6Kg and really occupy too much space in my suitcase.

I’ve just had a meal while sitting at a table literally on the beach, while light rain fell and a thunderstorm flashed and rumbled. The planes were silently gliding in from the east and the mozzies were doing carrier landings on my neck!

Someone asked, is it humid? Is it humid??? Is the Pope a pedo….? Uh oh, better not.

I’ve come to realise that my nose runs and I cough when I’m in the airconditioning. At the resort, we didn’t need aircon and all my symptoms cleared. Uh huh.

Which reminds me, I’d got the impression over years of guide books that the north coast was sparse, dry and dusty. Not where I was! It was just as lush and wet as Sanur. Nice.

This is actually Java, from the Bali ferry, 1989

I’ve just had a text from the villa architect: Peter can we weet 1300 noon.  Er, I guess so!