← PreviousExploring Bali: travel, discoveries and misadventuresThe next morning we woke around 9 to take a taxi to Ubud. It was a chance to get reacquainted with traffic jams and heavy traffic. It took us an hour and a half to cover 25 kilometres. If anyone wanted to prepare us for our return to Paris, they couldn't have done it better. Shortly before noon we checked into our new hotel before going to eat at a little restaurant found on TripAdvisor, the traveller's friend. Down a little alley, a small eatery sat below street level. You could eat there on motorbike saddles converted into dining seats.
We ordered typical Indonesian dishes and set off to wander Ubud's lanes. Scooters took up most of the space with a din that became deafening after a while, and on the pavement taxi drivers kept accosting tourists to get into their cars. We made our way through the crowds of visitors and went to see the town's palace. Our tour was quick, as the place of worship was being renovated and bamboo scaffolding covered most of the façades.
We fell back on Pura Taman Saraswati, a charming little place with two pools full of water lilies and a walkway down the middle. We photographed what seemed worthwhile before heading off on a mini hike to the town's rice terraces. Three kilometres away you could admire terraced plantations, but you had to trudge along a winding road and we arrived soaked in sweat. The way back was a bit easier, but not much, and back in town we stopped for an ice cream.
To our surprise, prices were almost the same as in Australia but the portions much less generous. We went back to the hotel with a bitter taste in our mouths that a dip in the pool managed to wash away. We'd planned to try the famous Balinese massages, but laziness got the better of us and we stayed lounging until dinner time.
We ate at the Laughing Buddha Bar, a very popular spot in Ubud. The setting was beautiful, all carved wood with pretty lantern lights hanging from the ceiling. A band came to play every evening and the atmosphere became really convivial. The only downside was the prices and portions: we were looking at almost Australian prices, plus hidden service charges and a tax added out of nowhere. That's the price of success and mass tourism. We went back to the hotel to sleep with the beginnings of irritation at the back of our minds. The next day started with a nice breakfast at the hotel. We both went for the American breakfast of toast and sausages.
It was fairly hearty, which was just as well, as we needed strength to face a day of pedalling. We'd spotted two bike rental places, and that's where we headed at 9 am in humid heat. The first shop was down a little cul-de-sac. Well, if you can call a metal shutter with bikes behind it a shop. And the shutter was down, with nobody around. We waited a bit and even called the number shown, but no one answered. We were even chased off by dogs clearly unhappy to see us on their territory. We fell back on Uber and went to the first temple of the day.
As it wasn't in the guidebooks, it was completely free of tourists and we wandered around inside in peace. It was really restful to get away from the tourist bustle of the town. We realised we'd come in through a service entrance and had sneaked in without knowing it. We went to the official entrance to be honest, but no one was guarding it. So we headed off to the second temple, having saved a few rupiah. We guided ourselves with Google Maps and arrived after about thirty minutes' walk.
We were once again strolling around a deserted temple when we realised for the second time that we'd come in through a side door. The temple was tiny, and we deliberately decided to leave straight away without paying. We now wanted to go back to town to eat and tried to order an Uber. Clearly, the drivers hadn't quite grasped how the app works, as they all tried to negotiate four times the price shown.
So we decided to set off on an hour's walk through the countryside. But after ten minutes, a young man pulled up beside us and offered to drop us off for thirty thousand rupiah. We accepted and soon found ourselves in front of our plates. Mama's Warung was a well-known little restaurant run by an elderly Balinese woman. We ate very well for an affordable price and left satisfied. We then headed to the main street to book bikes for the next day. We weren't going to make the same mistake twice.
Once that was done, we made the most of the pool for the rest of the afternoon. We didn't hang about, though, as we had a dance performance at 7:30 pm. On the way, we passed Ubud's famous Monkey Forest and witnessed a thieving monkey's misdeed. A clearly ill-informed tourist walked by with a cup, and a primate jumped on him to steal it, not knowing the cup contained scalding coffee. The poor animal went off with its tail between its legs.
The performance was in a temple. We sat in a circle on white chairs, with about two hundred people watching. We'd expected a remote spot and an intimate ceremony, but we could hear the road right behind us and even people talking. So much for authenticity. About thirty men came down the temple steps in traditional dress. They sat in a circle and sang Balinese melodies. That was the thread running through the show; their chanting never stopped. Characters appeared and began a sort of battle. We didn't understand much of what was going on, but we admired the choreography. The main idea seemed to be driving away evil spirits, but we couldn't say for sure.
At the very end, a lone man came to play with fire and walk on burning embers. He had fun kicking the flaming coconut husks, sending them very close to the people in the front row. All the Chinese tourists fled! They'd all been frightened by the fire. We came out laughing and walked to the restaurant Cassandre had found. It was a very original little hole-in-the-wall called Demah Warung. You ate there sitting cross-legged at low tables, and we quickly realised the place was very popular. We tried out this new way of sitting down to dinner. We'd already been there an hour and Cassandre had only just received her meal. People around us, though they'd arrived after us, were served before me. A table of young people behind us told us they'd been waiting more than an hour. We left annoyed and without paying; it wasn't the end to the evening we'd hoped for. We went back to the hotel to sleep, aiming to rest well, because tomorrow a long day of cycling awaited us.