I guess if we are going to try and get caught up we should begin with Christmas in Bali. It is strange writing about Christmas in the middle of Lent when it's 95° out, but it's time to try.
And what is there to say at this point? After finally arriving (and it does somehow seem a bit wrong to complain about that now), a week long holiday in Bali with good friends was really fun: lots of cards, lots of relaxing at the pool-side bar, lots of time in the ocean, and some great touristing.
Christmas scarves and cozies courtesy of Mike & Andi
Bali, though, was also hard for us: it was the first place that we experienced primarily as the globalized cosmopolitan travelers that we are. Of course, everything, every place, every culture, every people, every person is always more than we can experience. This is true for Bali as well; it is very easy to imagine an experience of Bali that is wildly different from the one we had. But for us, Bali, and especially Seminyak, was incredibly generic, a vacation hotspot and tourist destination in all the wrong ways. To grossly generalize and reduce in both directions: it felt like the Mexico of Australia. And though there isn't a Cabo Wabo, there is a Potato Head Beach Club. And two Hurley shops, and a Quicksilver, and a Roxy, a Billabong, a Channel Islands shop, a Rip Curl and a Pac Sun all vying for space with incredibly predictable bars and restaurants along the main drag. And though the beaches are amazing, they are taking the brunt of our tourism: every morning on our sunrise walks the beaches would be littered with trash, as the beach side resorts and hotels had their crews out cleaning their little section of beach front property, trying to hide the effect of our being there. This is not, I don't think, a plea for an authentic experience; authenticity is a subjective form of experience like any other, and so not necessarily better or more real than any other. The Maldives might be the best example of this. I think, rather, it was the generic destruction that was so troubling; the trashed ecology of a leveled culture. And feeling a part of that leveling and trashing.
But within that, we were able to find some great experiences.
A little off the main drag was the wonderful and quirky Taco Beach Grill with their strangely delicious Babi Guling (roasted pig) Tacos.
There was also the beach, oceans, waves, and sunsets.
A great hotel.
And a wonderful Christmas with friends.
Most of the trip we spent on the beach or at the pool. But we did venture out for one big day excursion through Bali. First stop was the Gunung Kawi complex in Tampaksiring. Built in the 11th century, Gunung Kawi is either the burial complex or temple complex of King Anak Wungsu. Tucked into a valley, surrounded by lusciously green terraced fields, the complex is comprised of a series of monuments and temple enclaves carved into the sides of the cliff. Descending into the complex it is easy enough to imagine that you are entering into the sacred center of life.
After that it was off to Ubud, made famous most recently as the final stop on Elizabeth Gilbert's search for herself. But slightly prior to this, Ubud had created its own fame. Founded in the 8th century when a Javanese Hindu priest began his meditation at the confluence of two rivers that lie at what is now the center of town, Ubud grew up as the cultural and religious heart of Bali. Ubud has always been felt as a place of power and healing, with the name itself meaning medicine. Today, in spite of Gilbert's devotees who have made of Ubud a pilgrimage site, the city remains the cultural and religious center of Bali. The streets are lined with small galleries and artists studios. And at the center of the city stands the Puri Saren Agung, the royal palace.
After finding a great little place for a late lunch, our day out was done, and it was time to head back to the hotel and get packed for an early morning flight back home.
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