Ubud

Day 86 – Ubud, Indonesia

Yesterday I went back to the beach for two hours. I was approached in that time by people wanting to sell me:

– snorkelling tour

– massages

– fruits

– clothes

– musical instruments

– silver jewellery.

All charming, starting very politely by complimenting my tattoos, enquiring if I enjoyed lunch, and where was I from, and did I want to take a look at -sarongs, fruits, flutes, rings- and they would give me a very good price because they hadn’t sold a thing yet today.

I ended up fleeing back to the BnB, its empty swimming pool, and its outdoor seating where nobody comes to sell me things.

Multi-coloured flower tree

Of course, I also ended up staining a plastic handle pink trying to wash my red headscarf, the one given at the end of the Borobudur tour and whose dye evidently isn’t fixed to the cloth. I had pink hands at the end.

Pink handle

Today was a bit better. I was driven to the bus departure point by a nice staff lady, on her scooter, with my backpack on my back, my handbag crossbody and my shoulder bag at her feet. No helmet, of course, which I don’t really like. But it was awfully nice of her to offer.

The minibus dropped us at Ubud after two and a half hours. We stopped half-way in the mountains, where apparently they grow strawberries, as many street seller tried to sell them to us.

I found my hostel quickly, decided that I would walk 20 minutes rather than take a taxi for 37,000 rupias (€2,5), it’s strange how I could find that expensive (I paid half that price for more than twice the trip in Yogyakarta) when compared to France, it’s peanuts.

Seen on my way to the rice paddies

I tried to go for an afternoon tour, but the tour office didn’t answer, and the tour I wanted for tomorrow doesn’t go tomorrow. The tours available, of course, don’t interest me. Especially the one where you discover a nice Northern beach, Lovina something…?

I went for a walk, there is something called a ridge walk on the map I think I could enjoy. But on the way there was an arrow along a tiny alley vaunting the “magical rice terraces in Ubud”, and since it was something I wanted to see and I read that you could see some in the city without going on a tour (where you pay to access a single viewpoint that every tourist has already photographed), I took the alley.

The trail from the alley

I had my doubts when it went on and on, but I did in fact end up in the middle of rice paddies, with a nice trail leading the tourist in between. There is an interesting irrigation system, small altars everywhere, and bamboo wind chimes that I presume are supposed to discourage the birds. I saw geese wallow in the paddies between rows of grown rice plants.

Wind chimes

Rice paddies

Of course, several very nice cafes are available, discreetly standing between a few fields without breaking up the atmosphere. The one I stopped at offered a range of “healthy” drinks at nicely inflated prices. You really pay for the view you enjoy from their outdoor tables. They also had scores of carved coconuts looking like funny faces hanging from the eaves.

The Sweet Orange cafe

Apparently, I was in the mood for something pink.

Dragon fruit ice cream and fruits, dragon fruit and other fruits juice

I made a wide loop in the fields (get the pictures in this new gallery), getting back near the commercial centre of the city. And commercial means commercial. Souvenirs shops, middle and high range clothes and jewellery shops, lounges, cafés, restaurants, all for the shopping-minded tourist. Of course, if you even think of maybe letting your eyes wander over the window, someone invites you to come inside and have a look. I might be getting tired of shopkeepers in Asia.

Temple wall – from the sidewalk

They sell fertility token in the shape of bigger-than-life-size wooden pen*ses (I use the star in the hope of avoiding attracting unwanted spam commentaries), a success with tourists I’m sure, as most of them finish as bottle openers.

The hostel has a common room with fish. I will have to take a picture.

I went back out for diner, and found a nice Indian restaurant. I rebuffed another diner who wanted to join me at my table -I had the smallest table, he came from his own table, he wanted either to sell me something or to sweet-talk me into something. I wasn’t in the mood.

And then back at the hostel for the last time of the day… and the joy of having again hot water in the shower!